Greyscale
by FearandLoathingXIX
Summary: There is a balance of good and bad. Good is not always good; sometimes it can be bad, and being bad can be good. It isn't any simpler when Megamind explains it.
1. Phase One

Well this was meant to be a _one_shot based on an idea I had a long time ago, but somehow it has extended somewhat beyond its original premise and ended up like this. My first proper chaptered Megamind fic, so I hope it goes down well.

* * *

_Greyscale_

_1  
_

* * *

"Weeeeell howdy!" a voice exclaimed in an almost painfully cliché cowboy accent. "I figured it was 'bout time _you_ showed up."

The call came from a broad-shouldered man with a ten gallon hat and four revolvers, who stood with his back to an open vault in one of Metro City's busiest banks, while in the doorway a figure in black and electric blue crossed his arms defiantly over his chest.

"You've been rustling cash cows in my town _too_ long, Cowboy," proclaimed Megamind, strolling past cowering customers like a king among bowed subjects. "I think it's time to put a stop to it."

"Ain't space in this city for two villains," The Cowboy – as he was popularly known – threatened.

"Beg pardon?" said Megamind electrically, his expression morphing to surprise. "_Two _villains? I don't even see one. I see a very handsome hero," he said, quirking his head to glance at his reflection in the bank window, "and I see a poor excuse for a criminal with a bad midwestern accent," he continued, turning back to the Cowboy with a look of disdain, "but no villains."

"Hey!" the Cowboy hollered, lacking a response other than directionless aggression, at which Megamind visibly sighed.

"Oh give it up," he condescended. "You are the _saddest_ excuse I've seen for a criminal all week. All you do is rob banks with a regional accent."

"Issat so?" the Cowboy replied, and reached for one of his revolvers. No sooner had he touched the handle than Megamind's own weapon was out and trained on him. "Oh I wouldn't, if I were you," the Cowboy drawled, whipping a gun from its holster. A bang cracked through the room and a hole that hadn't formerly been there appeared in the collar of Megamind's cape, about an inch from his right ear. He glanced at it without reaction, and then back to the Cowboy.

"Fluke," he professed, and then with another bang an identical hole appeared on the other side." The Cowboy blew off the top of his pistol and spun it around his finger.

"I can hit a playing card mid-air at forty feet," he boasted. "I got the fastest hand in all Metro City. How's maah _reegional accent_ lookin' now?"

"Well frankly, it's unconvincing," Megamind answered dryly, "but, if you're really so confident in your gunslinging, why not put it to the test? We're no one-horse town round here. I'm a pretty fast draw myself." He twirled his own weapon on the end of his finger, tossed it up over one shoulder and then caught it in his other hand behind his back.

"You thaank so?" the Cowboy questioned, but any attempt he had made to be intimidating was forever ruined by the comical tones of his accent.

"Oh, I do indeed," replied Megamind aloofly. "So I propose we have ourselves an old-fashioned draw, _pardner_," he imitated, badly. "Back to back, at ten paces."

"Hmph... been a while since any fool challenged me to a draw," the Cowboy remarked, chewing as he thought like a digesting cow. "All right, you're on. Hellah impressive if I kill you in a good honest shoot-out."

"How good of you to comply," responded Megamind, and then put a finger to his wrist, bringing it up to his mouth. "Minion!" he summoned, and his sidekick clomped in eagerly through the open bank doors moments later.

"Yes, sir, right away sir!" Minion chirped enthusiastically. "I'll start the count. Holster your weapons!" he ordered; Megamind casually slipped his gun back into its place, but the Cowboy was unwilling.

"Honestly, Mr. Cowboy sir," said Minion comfortingly as he marked out a starting point. "I'll be completely fair. We're good guys now, so you can rely on us to be honest." It seemed to persuade the Cowboy, who holstered his weapon and took his place, allowing himself to be positioned back to back with Megamind, their hands loose by their sides.

"This is gonna be your lucky day to die, Megamind," he muttered quietly.

"Then there is only one question I must ask myself," he replied. "Do I feel lucky?"

"ONE!" Minion yelled, and Megamind and the Cowboy each took a step away from one another "TWO!" They took another step, trigger fingers twitching, silence smothering the bank like thick fog. "THREE!" From outside – behind the police lines and flashing sirens – video cameras rolled, capturing every second. "FOUR!" Minion called out, and they each took another step.

It was popular knowledge that the unimaginatively-named Cowboy loved a draw – tales claimed he'd killed dozens of would-be competitors and heroes who dared to take him on. "FIV-" Minion began, and in the bat of an eye Megamind whipped his gun out of his holster, spun around and took a dive at his opponent, firing a bolt of energy straight into the center of his back.

A split-second later a small, luminous blue cube dropped to the polished floor with a clink, and a ten gallon hat slowly drifted down on top. There was a gasp, a moment of silence, and then a single voice of gut-wrenching laughter.

"What an IDIOT!" Megamind screamed, sprawled across the floor and doubling over in hysterics; he dropped his gun to beat a gloved fist against the polished stone tiles. "He fell for the oldest trick in the- in the-!" Further laughter interrupted the ridicule, while the bank customers and audience watched on with a mix of discomfort and confusion. "I mean, I didn't want to assume he was as _stupid _as he sounded, but _wow."_ Megamind slowly got back to his feet, skipped over to the hat and then threw it like a frisbee onto the top of Minion's tank. He was still chuckling to himself as he collected the dehydrated cube of the Cowboy and strolled outside.

"Catch!" he yelled, lobbing the cube at a cluster of policemen. "There's your cowboy," he tittered. "People of Metrocity," he announced to the cameras with a flourish, "your savings are once more safe!"

There was a little confused applause, but a fair number of spectators still appeared to be in a dilemma as to how they should process the new Hero's modus operandi. Oblivious to the indecision, Megamind let out a piercing whistle, and Minion clattered out of the bank behind him, still wearing the Cowboy's hat as he de-invisiblised the car

"Uh, sir," began Minion after they started to drive away, while Megamind still chuckled to himself.

"That went well, I think," he said brightly.

"Well, I'm not... I mean, I think that the crowds could have been more... a little more... _enthusiastic_," his companion remarked.

"What?" Megamind queried, and then thought it over for himself. "Hm... I suppose you have a point," he conceded. "They did seem somewhat lacklustre. Do you think I need a new cape? Is this one not exciting enough?"

"No, sir, I don't think that's it," said Minion diplomatically. "If I'm not mistaken, they weren't expecting you to, well... shoot him in the back."

"Where _else_ was I meant to shoot him?" questioned Megamind indignantly.

"I know," Minion agreed. "It's just... not seen as that heroic... to, you know, shoot someone in the back. Especially not after tricking them into turning around in the first place."

"Not _heroic?_" Megamind scathed. "I caught the criminal, did I not?"

"Yes, sir."

"And I handed him over to the authorities for punishment."

"Yes, sir."

"I didn't harm or maim him in any lasting way."

"That really _is_ an improvement, sir."

"Then I am the hero," he announced certainly. "I'm glad we had this chat, Minion."

By the evening footage of Megamind taking down the Cowboy was circulating over every TV channel in the city, though the spin on the story was subject to wide variation. Roxanne Ritchie had in fact only heard the barest outline of the events – she didn't follow coverage of most things Megamind did in the city, as it would usually make for a repeat when she got the first-hand account. She was working on a totally unrelated article when her boss invited himself into her office.

"Hi Roxanne, How's it going. So, this Megamind story," he quick-fired with absolutely no pretence of subtlety, but as her boss – and an otherwise nice guy – she couldn't really complain. "Think you can follow it up?"

"Hello Daniel, and sorry, what?" was her bemused reply – since her connection to Megamind had become Metrocity's worst-kept secret, the channel had stopped putting her onto any stories involving him in a wise attempt to avoid complications. "You want me to do follow up?"

"Yeah, for this bank job with the Cowboy," he elaborated. "I'm not sure which way we should go on it. An insider scoop from Megamind himself could give us a real edge."

"But isn't it obvious?" she remarked. "He caught the guy, didn't he?"

"Have you seen the footage?" he asked her astutely.

"Well no," she murmured. "I usually don't..."

"Get a tape of it, then make your mind up," he instructed. "You'll see what I mean."

"Which is what, exactly?" she probed.

"It's not what he did, but the way he went about it," her boss explained, "we don't want to lose viewers by condoning..." he trailed off, searching for the right words, which didn't seem to come.

"Condoning _what?_"

"Un-heroic behaviour," he said eventually. "See, Metro Man would have never shot a man in the back."

"Metro Man wouldn't _need_ to," Roxanne retorted. "Megamind, he... in the back?" she started trying to rationalize, and then quickly failed. "Okay, so why give the story to me?" she asked in an attempt at evasion.

"Why do you _think_?" Daniel said, giving her a critical look for asking something they all knew the answer to.

"Well, all right, I'll work on it," she agreed reluctantly. "Can I take the rest of the day off, at least - you know, to chase my lead?" It was a poor excuse, but they both knew that asking her to use her personal connection to Megamind to gain exclusives was a cheap tactic too.

"Of course, Roxanne," he said. "See you tomorrow."

She packed her stuff, left the office and headed straight for Megamind's – feeling as if she ought to at least carry out her word if she was getting out early. She parked a block away from the secret lair and walked the rest, intending to surprise Megamind, but she'd barely set foot into the lair before she heard his voice.

"Roxanne!" it echoed from afar; she didn't know whether he'd seen her on video surveillance or simply knew she was the only one to visit him unexpectedly, but the difference didn't matter much now. "What a pleasant surprise."

Although she usually followed whatever noise Megamind was making to find him in the lair, today he wasn't in any of his usual spots, and wasn't making any sounds to give himself away.

"Uh, Megamind?" she called out bemusedly.

"Yes?" his voice replied, seeming to come out from underneath a half-assembled jetski-looking machine.

"Where are you?"

"Here." This time she could have swore his voice came out of a discarded gramophone horn.

"Where?"

"_Here_," he restated, this time echoing from the ceiling.

"I don't know where _here_ is!" she retorted a touch crossly. "What is this, a game of hide and seek?"

"Here, over here!" he repeated yet again, making faint sounds of exertion that suggested some kind of movement. She propped her hands on her hips and scanned the room, until a spindly hand waving at the end of a long arm finally caught her eye in the very corner of the lair. She found Megamind and Minion sat on either side of a desk in what looked like a complete office cubicle set, surrounded by stacks of paper.

"This is unexpected, were you let out early from work?" he remarked conversationally, but without looking up from what he was reading.

"What are you guys doing?" she queried, and Megamind turned up to face her, at which point she realised he was wearing a pair of thin-framed glasses. "Glasses?" she interjected before he could answer her first question. "You don't wear glasses." In fact, the last time she'd seen him wearing glasses, he hadn't been wearing his own face either.

"These aren't _glasses_," he said diminutively. "They're goggles." He raised a hand to the frames of one lens and grabbed it by the top and bottom, at which point the rim zinged to life and out popped the lens, zooming out until his eye was grotesquely magnified. "For small print," he explained, and then turned back to the desk; meanwhile, Minion was busy with a pen in each hand, filling out two different forms simultaneously.

"Small print? What is all this?" she interrogated. "Have I caught you at a bad time?"

"Oh no, no," he replied reassuringly, but without breaking eye contact with his document. "Please, take a seat. We won't be much longer now."

"It's tax day, Miss Ritchie," Minion explained helpfully, and let Roxanne muse over it for a few seconds, until she registered her issues with the statement.

"Hold on, you do taxes? You _have _taxes?" she said incredulously.

"Of course!" Megamind retorted, looking up from his paper disparagingly. "What do you take us for?"

"Well I... I just never thought you were... I mean, you actually pay taxes on your... your... stuff?" She could imagine how you even did the books for a supervillain-turned-hero, and dreaded to think about what counted as a work expense.

"_Pay?_" Megamind scoffed, suppressing a chuckle of amusement. "That's a novel idea."

"Whaddya mean?" she asked, reaching out to pick a few forms off the top of one of the piles. "Is this a... why do you have a five thousand dollar tax rebate?" She sifted to another form. "Is this a claim for disability benefit?"

"If that is what it says," he answered methodically, popping his glasses out with both hands to scan a few lines at the very bottom of a page, then letting them go again to return to his curiously-spectacled self.

"But you aren't disabled," she pointed out.

"I'm not retired either, but that doesn't stop me claiming a pension," he added brightly.

"You're not seri... how do you... who do they think they're giving this to?" she asked in a confused blunder of incomplete questions, unsure as to which she wanted answered first.

"To my cover bank account, of course," he said with an exasperated sigh. "Mr. '_M. G. Mind' _if I remember correctly."

"I've finished the maternity applications, sir," Minion interjected, handing over several copies, which Megamind added to various stacks.

"Well done, Minion," he complimented. "Just the War Widows fund and Metrocity's orphaned child benefit left now."

"Don't forget the orphan _care_ benefit," reminded Minion.

"Good point!" commended Megamind. "How many of those?" he asked, ruffling through sheafs of paper frantically. "Five?"

"Six, sir."

"Wait, maternity_?_" Roxanne shot. "War Widows? Orphans? You can't be claiming for _all_ of those," Megamind actually stopped searching through documents, and turned in his seat to face her, peering over his spectacles in an almost practiced fashion.

"How do you think I fund my livelihood, Roxanne?" he questioned coolly.

"I don't know, I guessed maybe you had a... I hadn't thought about it," she blurted, "but I didn't think you'd be stealing from the city."

"Stealing? It is most certainly not!" he rebutted. "Everything is paid willingly. They practically _give_ it away."

"But... but you're not a pregnant, disabled, retired _war widow _with six orphans to feed!" It was such an obvious point it shouldn't have needed to be said, yet Megamind still seemed bemused.

"So?"

"So, that means you shouldn't claim money for it," she burst. "It's not yours."

"The city distributes its budget as it sees fit," he stated aloofly. "I'd say funding a hero is a pretty important expense."

"Does the mayor know about it?"

"Well of course not, that would slow things down," he scoffed. "Honestly, Roxanne, you make it sound like I'm doing something wrong here."

"You are! Tax and benefit fraud is a crime, Megamind." He stared at her for a moment, bringing a hand to his chin as if in deep thought.

"... Only a little one," he announced at last, and then with a shrug turned back to his paperwork.

"_What?_" she said in shock. "That makes it okay?"

"If it _is _a crime, it's a victimless one," he added uninterestedly. "I've always gained my revenue this way, I'm sure the city's budget has adjusted accordingly over the years."

"_Years? _How long are we talking about here?" she demanded, but Megamind just shrugged again, clearly paying more attention to his form than to her. "But... doesn't it bother you?" she asked. "Being Metro City's Hero and stealing from them at the same time? Doesn't it seem... _un-_heroic?" It was only after she said it that Roxanne realised she'd used the same phrase as her boss had.

"Un-heroic?" he repeated scathingly. "What does that mean? Heroes save the day, Roxanne, there's no fine print about general upstanding citizenry." He paused for a second to sign a form and then added it to a completed pile. "I should know, I checked."

"I just meant... people don't expect heroes to commit benefit fraud," she explained, "or do other stuff like, you know... shooting people in the back," she added in an uncomfortable rush, and immediately Megamind stopped writing; his pen hit the table, and he stood up, standing straight across from her.

"Is that what this is about?" he questioned delicately. "The scene at the bank?"

"No, well... sort of," she confessed. "It just seems to some people as if you've been... kinda... un-heroic."

"You keep saying that," he commented, no trace of emotion hidden in his usually expressive face. "Un-heroic. Do you actually mean evil?" The accusation hit hard, and Roxanne found herself wishing she'd never waded into the quicksand of a discussion in the first place.

"No, not _evil _evil," she insisted. "It's just..." Before she could try to backtrack, Megamind held up a hand and cut her off.

"I think I know the problem here," he declared. "Minion, do you think you can finish alone?"

"Of course, sir," Minion answered cheerfully. "Are you going to give Miss Ritchie The Talk?"

"Yes, I think it's about time," he replied. "Roxanne, would you mind coming with me for a moment?" he requested forebodingly, holding out an arm to indicate direction and then setting off.

"Uh, _The Talk_?" she said suspiciously, following after Megamind as he lead the way, cape gently billowing behind him.

"Yes, Minion and I have discussed it before," he explained a little too cryptically for comfort, leading Roxanne through to a clearing with two chairs set up. "Please, take a seat," he offered politely, which was always uncanny coming from him.

"Are you feeling okay?" she inquired, not sitting down. "You seem a bit... weird."

"Please, sit," he reiterated, and she dropped reluctantly into a chair. "Now, I don't quite know how to tell you this, Roxanne, so I will just have to say it," began Megamind. "Minion and I... we believe you are, for lack of a better term, a little _too good."_

"WHAT!" she burst.

"Now, it's nothing to be ashamed of – especially considering your background," he explained sympathetically, "but I must tell you, we both feel that you are really very extremely too good."

Roxanne wasn't sure if she was hearing things in the midst of some kind of mental breakdown, if _he_ was was in the midst of a breakdown, or if it was just one of those days where absolutely nothing made sense, but Megamind had just gone from nought to complete nonsense.

Worse yet, he seemed perfectly happy about it.

* * *

And that's a wrap for the first installation. More to follow!


	2. Phase Two

Hello again, time for the rest of this _very serious and incredibly important conversation._

* * *

_Greyscale_

2

* * *

"You're kidding," insisted Roxanne; she wished that Megamind was joking, she really, really did. He sat across from her a perfect model of composure, fingers pressed together thoughtfully, like a psychiatrist in session. "Please tell me you're kidding."

"I'm afraid not," he explained delicately.

"No," she said, "you _cannot _be serious!"

"Now, anger is a perfectly understandable reaction, Roxanne," he comforted. "I'm sure you haven't done it intentionally, but Minion and I both feel it's best you..."

"You think I'm _too_ _good_?" she interrupted.

"Well, yes," he answered. "I know you're used to it, but I can assure you that it is not too criminal to be bad every once in a while."

"Isn't that the _definition_ of criminal?" she pointed out, but Megamind only smiled to himself.

"Not at all," he replied, "sometimes a little bad can be very good. You see, you shouldn't feel like you have to be good _all _of the time... it's not good for you," he added like a kindly, confused guidance counsellor.

"I don't believe this," she murmured underneath a sigh. "You honestly think it's a problem that I'm good?"

"_Too _good, and I'm afraid so," he replied with resignation. "A little is fine, but frankly... you're too good for your own good."

"Wait," she said acerbically. "I'm _too good for my own good?_"

"Exactly! You see, bad is not always bad," he lectured, "sometimes it's good."

"Ohh... bad is good, and good is bad," she summarised sceptically. "Of course, that makes complete sense." At first Megamind seemed delighted, but he then realised she was being sarcastic and his face fell again.

"All I am trying to say is that there is a balance of good and bad," he explained. "One does not have to be entirely one or the other."

"I know _that_," she snapped.

"Do you?" he countered. "I don't think that you do. You try to be good all the time, I've watched you. But no one can do it constantly," he elaborated. "Not me, not Metro Man, and not you," he stated bluntly.

"Can you at least tell me what you're basing this on?" she demanded.

"It's merely an observation," he replied evasively. "For your own sake... you should consider being a little more bad." At which point he couldn't hold back an unashamedly wicked grin, which he must have been hiding in an attempt to appear serious. "I can promise you it's rewarding."

"Okay, enough of this," Roxanne interrupted, throwing up her hands. "No more."

"I'm only trying to hel-"

"I know," she interrupted, "but you're _not_." She regretted the comment the moment she saw hurt dash across his face – she forgot sometimes he could still be so fragile, so easily wounded. She could have chosen better words; rejection always hit him hard. "I just... the thing is, my boss wanted me to get a follow-up with you about the shootout with the Cowboy," she confessed apologetically. "He fed me some questions – I didn't want to say anything, but then _this_ happened."

"Oh," Megamind murmured with visible confusion. "That's... uncharacteristic."

"I know," she said with tremendous guilt. "This story's been big news, which puts pressure on the station to get the angle right. Normally they'd never ask me for something like this, but if they did it means they must be stuck... I didn't want to say no."

"I see," he accepted, although she knew he couldn't be comfortable with it; she didn't want to feel like she was secretly interviewing him for the station whenever they spent time together, because it _wasn't_ the case – but events like this didn't help.

"I didn't think it would provoke such an intervention_," _she tried to explain, but ended up only making it worse.

"I am not intervening!" he shot. "I am merely offering you advice."

"Which is that I should be _bad_?" she surmised, and there was a gleam in his eye that she did not trust one bit.

"Oh yes," he almost purred, giving her the impression that he had his own reasons for encouraging her.

"Why?" she put to him, because in spite of his best attempts to explain, she still didn't understand at all. There seemed to be no sense in what he was saying – he was a self-professed and proven hero, yet what he asked of her contradicted everything that the role entailed.

"Because, Roxanne," he began with a calm, sure tone to his voice, "you sometimes do what you think is right instead of what you want – and before you interrupt, the two are _not _always the same," he said before she could object. "Take it from an expert," he continued, "being bad does not have to be about magnificent feats of evil, it can be as simple as throwing what one knows is 'right' out of the window and doing what you want to do."

"And you think I don't?" she suggested sourly, not feeling flattered by the suggestion.

"I think that you let your moral obligations take precedence over your desires," he rephrased carefully. "This is not something Minion and I decided lightly," he added. "We've been concerned for a while."

"Concerned? About _what_ – that I'll be too righteous and accidentally ascend to the heavens?" she taunted.

"That you won't be happy, Roxanne," he replied softly, and she lost any feeling of antagonism. He _cared_, regardless of how misguided his attempts to show it were, and she couldn't bring herself to resent that.

"I am," she told him, and he fixed her with an intense, searching look.

"Okay," he breathed, accepting that there was no more he could do, "but at least think about it," he requested as he got up and smoothed out his cape for wrinkles, and then called over Minion – who had long since finished their annual embezzlement, and came bearing coffee and pastries, which brightened the indisputably tense mood. But she _did _think about it, wondering if maybe he had a point – if she was trying too hard.

It hadn't been long since Megamind had been officially instated as the city's new hero, and the air was not yet clear of mistrust. He and Minion were on a kind of trial period, so Roxanne knew how important it was that they won over the people of Metro City. They had to be on their best behaviour – if they even knew what that was.

She wondered if perhaps she was so convinced _they_ had to be perfect that she'd started playing along herself – she was so closely associated with Megamind that her actions could easily reflect on him, and it had worried her before. But _he_ clearly didn't think he had to be a perfect citizen and moral role model; as far as he was concerned, it was about the ends not the means, and his less-conventional methods had already made ripples among sceptics. Roxanne realised that she was probably trying to compensate, or at least make an example out of herself; she didn't think she was _that_ much of a goody two-shoes, but she did take what Megamind had to say seriously, even if she didn't buy into it herself. She found herself thinking about it more than she would have liked to.

As a small concession, she kept quiet about his taxes after that, but as with most things, it wasn't that simple. The weekend after the much-talked about Cowboy bank job, she and Megamind went out for lunch in the city – it was Minion's day off and he could therefore not be persuaded to cook. Although Megamind claimed to be starving, he seemed too apathetic or engrossed in his work to feed himself of his own volition, so the duty fell to Roxanne, who decided to take him to one of her favourite delis in the city.

They drove across town in the invisible car, pulling up right outside the cafe, and Megamind parked obliviously across a masterpiece of _NO STOPPING AT ANY TIME _lines scrawled on the road. He shut off the engine and hopped out of the car whistling cheerily.

"Wait, you're not going to park here, are you?" she said, climbing out when she realised that he was not intending to move, and was in fact waiting for her.

"Yes," he answered. "Why not?"

"You can't park here," she told him, pointing at the lines and signs making it very clear that there was to be no stopping by _any_ vehicle at _any_ time.

"I just did," he stated, as if he didn't quite understand what she was trying to argue.

"I mean, you're not _allowed_ to park here," she reiterated a little impatiently. "It's illegal."

"Ohoh," he chuckled. "Very funny, Roxanne, parking is ill-... you're _serious_?" he broke away, completely baffled.

"Haven't you read the signs?" she asked, pointing demonstratively; Megamind walked around to study the placards with a great deal of curiosity. Once content, he pulled out the small remote-control device and pressed a button, causing the invisible car to live up to its name and vanish.

"Problem solved," he declared, and turned in the direction of the deli.

"Wait a minute, the car is still there," she said crossly. "It's an emergency and loading zone, what if-"

"If the space is for emergencies, I'd say it's pretty sharp luck I happened to be here if there _is_ one," he pointed out pragmatically. "Come along now." Roxanne thought about trying to protest further, and then realised it would only be a repeat of the taxes situation.

She had to accept that she was not his moral compass. After she'd made her objection clear, if he wanted to ignore her points – and the law – then that was that.

"Fine," she sighed, following him in. Not Talking About It seemed to work out fine, because they were having a nice lunch, until Megamind suddenly stopped mid-way through a sentence, dropping his food suddenly and cracking a wide grin.

"Oh goody," he muttered with delight, pulling out the invisible car keys and quickly deactivating the cloaking, so that the car flashed into view just as a traffic warden walked around the corner of the block.

"What are you-" Roxanne started, and then saw the man spot Megamind's car. He strolled up to the vehicle and rounded it like a predator on the hunt, while its owner watched with private amusement. The second the warden looked down to fill out a very hefty parking fine, Megamind flicked the cloaking back on and the car vanished.

The warden glanced up, then down, then back up again, and looked left and right for the car which was now nowhere to be seen. The man rubbed a hand across his forehead and then stumbled shakily to a bench, slumping down on it with a haggard expression while Megamind actually started giggling.

"What was the point of _that?_" asked Roxanne.

"I couldn't resist," he tittered with an almost childish grin, and then realised she was expecting a proper answer. "Oh... no point, just for fun," he added, and then gave her a searching look upon noticing her displeasure. "Wait, you're not going to have a _problem_ again, are you?" he asked wearily.

"I'm not... well actually I..." she said in a confused rush. "It's not-"

"Heroic?" he suggested with a sharp, slightly dangerous grin. "I suppose not, but I _am _off-duty. It's no more than a prank, Roxanne," he placated. "Minion and I do it all the time."

"Well, no wonder all the traffic wardens in this city are unstable," she replied sarcastically, propping her face on a fist and giving him a critical once-over of her own. Although still dressed all in black most of the time, he had at least dropped the capes and jumpsuits when he was 'off-duty'. Polo-necks and actual trousers were a preferable option as far as social outings were concerned. "You know, sometimes it's hard to believe you actually are our new hero," she remarked, and then realised upon saying it that the sentence sounded much worse out loud than in her head.

"Oh," he murmured, eyebrows drawing together self-consciously.

"No, wait, I didn't mean it like that," she retracted, reaching out curl her hand over his forearm reassuringly. "It's just... different, to how things used to be. You're different to Metro Man."

"I am painfully aware of that," he stated blankly, like the only way he could say the words were if he forced the emotion out of them.

"It takes a little getting used to. For everyone," she explained with the slightest hint of a plea; he had to have patience with people just as much as they had to have it for him.

"For you, as well?" he questioned with his honest, childlike vulnerability, and her grip on his arm tightened.

"A little," she admitted, knowing that she would see the drop in his eyes, betraying his emotions without the need to open his mouth, "but _don't_ take that to mean I don't believe in you," she added, "because I do. I really do." He perked up again, and one of his own hands, slim, ungloved came to rest on top of hers, fingers slotting into the spaces between her own.

"Thank you," he said simply, not cluttering the occasion with unnecessary talk.

By the time they'd finished eating and had a coffee, another traffic warden was passing by. The hand left hers, and Roxanne heard Megamind put something on the table – glancing down realised it was the control to the invisible car. She looked up at him, only to discover he was smirking at her.

"What's that for?" she accused bluntly.

"Care to try it yourself?" he tempted. "You know how it works."

"No, I'm fine," she responded. It was one thing letting him do what he wanted as far as mischief and misbehaviour were concerned, but bringing her in on it was another matter.

"Are you sure?" he baited, picking up jangling the key in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the traffic warden stand and count out the last minute of paid fare on a parking meter, then slap a ticket on the car victoriously; for a moment, she seriously considered it.

"No," she repeated again firmly. "I'm fine."

"Suit yourself," he remarked, twirling the keys and then putting them back into his pocket. Back at the lair, they were greeted by a worrisome-looking Minion.

"Sir, sir," he entreated. "Have you seen the news yet?" Megamind glanced at Roxanne and she shrugged.

"No," he answered. "What is it? An emergency? A villain!"

"Uh... not quite," said Minion uncomfortably, and then with a button on his suit, started up a projector. It beamed a face onto one of the far walls in the lair, one of chiselled features and immaculate hair – a rising hot shot of journalism, Lance Johnson. He appeared to be presenting one of his 'expose' segments – usually hype stories that tugged on the population's insecurities, and behind him flashed images of their topic for the day – Megamind. Most of the pictures shown were from the days before he'd turned, when he was still a bad guy.

"Can you teach an old dog new tricks?" Johnson asked the viewers in a perfect non-regional accent. "A leopard cannot change its spots, they say, and this reporter believes that Megamind's 'reformation' cannot last much longer. Already snatches of his old ways are showing through, as seen by all of Metro City during his shootout with the Cowboy last week. This snake in the grass is going to pounce, mark my words," he warned ominously. "The people of Metro City better keep an eagle eye trained on Megamind, or they-" the noise shut off suddenly, as Megamind clicked off the broadcast from a control of his own. Roxanne looked at Minion, who seemed to share her stunned horror, and then they both turned to Megamind, desperate but half-dreading his reaction.

"What an _ass!" _he exclaimed with a cheerful tone. "All those bizarre animal comparisons – who writes such junk?" he chortled and then strolled off further into the lair without a care in the world.

"You... you aren't bothered?" Roxanne questioned, trotting after him inquisitively.

"Bothered, why would I be bothered?" he replied.

"Well, he was accusing you of... he said that-"

"Roxanne," he interjected. "Do not worry. _I_ am not worried. The man is clearly a fool, and if other fools wish to believe him, they can do so all they like. I didn't become a hero for the adoration of idiots," he pointed out haughtily. "I did it to take care of this city."

"Oh... right," she responded indecisively, "you have a point."

"Of course I do," he said proudly, meanwhile Minion skipped up beside them with an armful of blueprints. "Minion, turn the projector back on," he instructed, strolling up to a computer console. "We can run some of these simulations while it's warmed up."

"Right away," Minion chirped, and flicked the big screen back on from his remote controls; however, before he could switch over, Lance Johnson appeared once more. On the back screen this time was another familiar face – not least to the person it belonged to.

"And as for _Roxanne Ritchie_," Johnson announced ominously, then before Minion could switch it over Megamind shot out an arm.

"Stop!" he belted, and they all froze, eyes turned up at the picture on the wall.

"One of the so-called voices of Metro City," Lance parodied. "What's the full story? Why she was kidnapped by Megamind so many times over the years, but never sustained any injuries? What's the real connection between Roxanne Ritchie and Megamind? Was she in league with him from the start, orchestrating kidnappings and awarding herself the title role of damsel in distress? It certainly boosted ratings, not to mention her career. Take it from _me_, people of Metro City," Lance suddenly reached the climax of his report. "Megamind is not to be trusted, and anyone who associates with him shouldn-" the screen shut off suddenly, and by the time Roxanne could drag her horrified eyes away from the empty patch of wall, Megamind was charging past her with a face like thunder.

"Minion!" he barked. "Power up the death ray and find out where that man lives, I'll calculate when the satellite is going to be passing over-"

"Whoah, whoah," Roxanne interrupted, running after and catching Megamind by an arm. "Slow down – _death ray?_"

"That man slandered you," he stated crossly, as if having to explain himself was a waste of precious seconds. "So, I'm going to destroy everything he owns. Starting with his house."

"What?" she yelped, "but, but... he lives there!"

"Whether or not he's in it is a minor detail," Megamind dismissed.

"Oh no, no you don't," she rushed. "Calm down, you are not blowing up Lance Johnson's house with the death ray."

"Yes I am."

"No you're _not!"_

"Try and stop me," he bit, and attempted to start moving again, but Roxanne grabbed him with both hands and dug in her heels, pulling him back with enough force that they went nowhere.

"You were fine when he was insulting you!" she pointed out urgently.

"That is irreverent," he professed. "Roxanne, my mind is made up, I-" he started with conviction, and then trailed off, like the plug had been pulled out of the bottom of his temper, when she reached up and grabbed his face between her hands, forcing him to face her.

"Listen to me, Megamind, I am _fine_," she said firmly, still clutching him by the jaw and staring square at him. "It's a bit of journalistic mud-slinging. This sort of thing happens all the time. You do not need to defend, _or_ avenge me," she instructed, and for a tense moment he just stared at her, green eyes wide and angry. Then, slowly, he cooled.

"I... very well," he settled unsurely. "If... you are certain that is what you want."

"Yes," she confirmed without a second's delay. "I absolutely want you to _not_ destroy Lance Johnson's house." Megamind made a gesture of annoyance.

"Fine," he bemoaned, "but this is his first warning."

"Okay," she concluded, thinking that he was speaking figuratively. As it turned out, he wasn't.

* * *

I think I've done that thing where I spend so much time reading over the same fic that I lose any objectivity over it. Really I should get a beta-reader but I work fast and fear rejection. I'd love to hear any opinions or feedback people have on the story so far, there were a few things I wanted to do differently.

Ciao ciao all!


	3. Phase Three

This entire first scene was a completely new addition from my masterdocument, so I hope people like it! I felt like M's revenge needed more detail :P

* * *

_Greyscale_

3

* * *

Lance Johnson's morning was a good one. Everything about it was going well; he'd woken up on time, put the finishing touches on his hair, and only yesterday he'd dealt a hard blow to Megamind and his cohort Roxanne Ritchi – the woman who hung around with a supervillain and _still _managed to best him. She beat him at everything, from viewer ratings to prime time spots and regional coverage; she was even named as more important than him in the Metro City Times's top fifty most influential. But that was going to change now.

He selected a good suit and dressed carefully, making sure not a thread was out of place. As he passed by a window facing onto the street, he noticed a few people loitering on the pavement outside, staring up at him with awe. He grinned, resigning himself to the burdens of fame, and picked his briefcase off his bed.

He opened his front door expecting to be met with reverance, but as he closed it behind himself, his fingers felt wet. That was odd, because it hadn't rained recently, but he absent-mindedly wrote it off, and wiped his palm on his suit. It was only _then_ that he realised something was not quite right, and on glancing down, saw a smear of bright blue paint all down his front. He looked at his hand with horror, seeing it too was covered in paint, and after whirling around, Lance Johnson realised his entire door had been covered in a thick layer of blue paint.

Staggering back a few steps, he saw that it wasn't just the door – no, the entire _front of the house _was now sky blue, explaining the presence of spectators on the street. There was only one explanation, and he was so furious that he got in his car and drove straight to the police station without even changing. However, he was not quite met with the reception he desired.

"Please, Mr. Johnson, if you would explain it... _again_, from the start," instructed the office tasked with recording his complaint, who appeared as if he'd rather be doing absolutely anything else.

"Megamind painted my house!" blurted Johnson, gesturing wildly.

"He painted it? What colour – blue, sir?" the policeman inquired sardonically, and Johnson nodded. "You have a little up here," the officer explained, gesturing to a space on his forehead; Lance had clearly been rubbing his face on the drive over.

"Yes! I got some on my... look, he _painted my house_," Johnson repeated indignantly.

"So you keep saying. Can you tell me why you might have reason to think that?" asked the officer.

"Who else would have done it?" shot Johnson. "He's getting revenge for my report on him yesterday, isn't it obvious?"

"Which report would that be, Mr. Johnson?" said the officer dryly, scribbling in a notebook.

"You mean, you didn't see it?" he replied with dismay.

"Ehh, I always watch the channel eight news," the officer remarked, and didn't seem to notice the scowl he evoked from his interviewee.

"It was Megamind, I tell you!" Johnson insisted. "I told the truth about him on air and this is how he's retaliated."

"The truth?" queried the officer.

"Yes, that he's a villain and will always be a villain," Lance retorted savagely.

"Ah, so in revenge... he redecorated your house?" It was phrased in a way that did not quite capture the magnitude of villainy Lance felt it deserved; in fact, the way he spoke made it sound almost trivial.

"Yes."

"Can you tell me, Mr. Johnson, have you had any building works planned that you might have forgotten about?" suggested the officer sympathetically.

"What?" barked Johnson. "What kind of idiot do you think I am!"

"Please answer the question," the officer instructed.

"Why would I ask for the entire front of my house to be painted bright blue?"

"I wouldn't like to make assumptions, sir," stated the officer. "Please answer yes or no."

"No, of course not! I'm telling you, it's Megamind!"

"Do you have any evidence to support that?"

"He painted my house _blue_, what more do you need?" snarled Johnson. "Who else would want to paint my house blue overnight?"

"Again, sir, I'm not at liberty to guess," droned the officer in reply. "Did _the suspect _leave any kind of calling card?"

"Well he... he's... I mean, it was _blue_, and he's...he's-"

"Blue, right," the officer murmured, writing a word in his notebook that looked a lot more like 'crazy' than it did 'blue'. "Mr. Johnson, I'm afraid that a common colour scheme is not enough to go on," he exp;ained patronisingly. "We would need probable cause in order to proceed"

"But... but," Johnson babbled.

"Should you come across any further evidence that might aid our enquiry into this case of vandalism, we encourage you to contact us again," recited the policeman unenthusiastically. "Thank you for your time," he said in a way that sounded more distinctly like 'get the hell out of here and stop wasting my time'.

* * *

Roxanne had honestly thought Megamind was being figurative when he said Lance Johnson was on his first warning. It was only after arriving at work the next day and hearing the big gossip – that Johnson's entire house had been painted blue overnight – that she realised he wasn't.

She made her way furtively to her office, not wanting to run into any 'have you heard' conversations with co-workers, knowing that they would probably fish for confirmation that Megamind really was responsible. Although she knew she couldn't hide from them forever, she could at least delay it a while – she was worried enough after Johnson's report, let alone Megamind's retaliation. Though he wasn't well regarded in journalistic circles, she dreaded to think that anything Johnson said might be taken seriously by the station. So when her boss stopped by before lunch, she couldn't help a stab of fear in the back of her mind.

"Is anything the matter, Roxanne?" he asked part-way through a chat about some upcoming stories; she hadn't realised she was showing her worry so clearly.

"No, nothing, I'm fine," she lied cheerfully.

"Good, because I wouldn't want you to think we were reappraising your position because of anything Lance Johnson says," Daniel stated clearly. "In all honesty, my main reason for being here is to give you a push on that follow-up about Megamind; with the way other channels are turning, now is the best time to come out with a good scoop."

"Right, of course," she said with a poorly-disguised gush of relief.

"Johnson pitches trash conspiracy theories," he said. "I know that. You should _know_ that I know that. You're a good journalist, Roxanne. That's why you work for us. Not because of your... colourful life outside the office," he phrased diplomatically.

"Thanks," she murmured, honestly grateful that her employers were so understanding.

"So what do you think?" he pressed. "Reckon you could put together a short something for later on today? We'll broadcast you live – something like that piece you did for Metro Man's museum opening," he detailed. "People liked that." Roxanne considered it carefully; she didn't exactly need to go out and interview Megamind to write a piece, but it was short-notice and she'd never spoken about him on-air before.

"I'm not sure," she confessed.

"Don't worry about the bank job," Daniel replied. "We just want you on air with a piece to counter Johnson's. Think of it as setting the record straight," he added persuasively. It occurred to her that Megamind had his moment of retaliation, so maybe she deserved hers. Only she could do it legitimately, in Johnson's own arena – beating him at his own game.

"Okay," she answered suddenly. "I'll do it."

"That's what I wanted to hear," said Daniel triumphantly. "Let me know if you want to shoot on-location, and we've got a slot for you at six so have everything ready for then; you know the drill."

"Yessir," she responded, feeling both frightened and excited by the idea. "I'll give it my best shot."

"All we need, Roxanne," he replied, standing up and giving her a nod of approval. "I'll leave you to your work."

She started before he was even out of the door; she had so much that she wanted to say, but needed to find the best and fewest possible words to say it in. The piece in some ways wrote itself, but it did so about five times longer than she could fit into the timeslot, so most of her work was cutting it down until she felt like she had it down to the very heart of what she wanted to say – what she wanted to tell the city about Megamind.

When it was five minutes until showtime, she stood nervously at the foot of Metro tower, running over the words in head worrisomely. Her cameraman handed her a microphone, and then counted her in.

"Good evening, Metro City, this is Roxanne Ritchi coming to you live from Metro Tower." She was clutching her mic a little harder than usual, but that was the only sign of nervousness she let slip past the professional façade.

"This building is a monument to everything our city is, and everything it has been through. Not too long ago it was ripped in half by the villain Tighten, but today it stands tall and strong. These repairs would not have been completed if not for one person, one hero: Megamind. To me, Metro Tower doesn't just signify our strength, it signifies our ability to _repair_, to survive and start over. Something may be destroyed – someone may be mistrusted – but that is not the way it always has to be. We can change, Metro City, we can start over. I know that Megamind is no Metro Man, and his methods may be different, but what he wants – what he needs – is a clean slate. He will show us how far he's prepared to go to protect this city, but first we have to give him a chance. Doubt will get us nowhere, doubt can only bring us down; it is _belief_ that we need. And I believe in Megamind, Metro City," she concluded climatically, looking straight down the lens. "The question is – do you?"

When the cameras cut she found that she was shaking a little, heart pounding; it was more than the thrill of broadcasting live, it was from saying what she believed was the truth, and wondering if it would reach anyone. She hoped so.

"Nice work, Roxanne," the cameraman complimented. "You can tell him he's got my support."

"Well I... thanks," she said graciously. Her reception back at the office was no less positive – she got three 'well done's on the lift journey alone, and her feature was re-shown in both the evening and late-night news shows. She hadn't dared to think it would go down _this _well, though it was the first time she'd ever spoken on air about Megamind since he'd changed sides. Or maybe that wasn't it at all, perhaps it was just _what_ she was saying that mattered.

Either way, come the evening, almost every tv-set in Metro City was tuned into their station. Lance Johnson could eat his heart out, she thought proudly. Not to mention, her means had been far more effective than painting his house a silly colour, which she was going to count a clear point in favour of doing things by the book. Even the radio was broadcasting sections from her report on the drive home, and the high didn't wear off; even as she chopped carrots for her dinner, she smiled into them as if sharing a tender and amusing moment. She was almost ready to serve when her phone rang.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Roxanne?" rattled Megamind's distinctive voice down the line. "Am I interrupting?"

"No, I can talk," she replied amiably, turning down the heat on her meal and leaning back against the counter. "What's up?"

"Can I... I'd, uh... would it be all right if I... came over?"

"Over here?" she responded. "Sure, of cours-" She was interrupted by a knock at her door. "Wait a sec, someone's at the door," she mumbled, walking over to answer it.

Out in the hallway stood Megamind, phone still to his ear.

"I thought it was best to call first," he said awkwardly, still talking on the phone.

The first thing Roxanne did was hang up, because it was [pointless and she had a phone bill to take care of, and that seemed to spur him into action; in the bat of an eyelid he'd wrapped his arms around her shoulders, squeezing her like he was drowning and she was the only thing to hold onto.

"Thank you," he murmured so softly it was barely above a whisper, his cheek to hers. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," she replied, slightly overwhelmed. As the surprise wore off, she thought to take advantage of the situation and hug him back, curling one of her arms all the way around him. Although slim, he was surprisingly dense, weighing almost twice what she did and apparently more resilient to damage, or so he claimed whenever he fell over. She pulled back first, wondering what her neighbours would think if they saw her openly embracing Megamind of all people in her hallway.

"Anyway," she said brightly, packing backwards into her apartment in case any neighbours _did_ appear – she didn't want to end up on the gossip columns, not if she could help it. "It's no trouble."

"Really, Roxanne," he insisted, staring at her without blinking, like he could just turn the function off if he wanted. She was sure he could melt things with that gaze if he left it long enough; it certainly did a number on her. "No one has ever... I mean, no one's said anything like that, not for me."

"Hey," she cut in, edging forwards and to hell with the neighbours. "It's the truth, it had a right to be told." Again he focused on her without speaking, a face swallowed up by eyes, each one a palette of greens and golds impossible to pin down as a single shade. Then it was a suddenly a little too quiet, slightly too close to awkward. "Uh, are you hungry?" she injected into the silence. He gave her a quizzical look. "I'm cooking," she explained. "I mean, it was only for me, but I usually make too much anyway, and as you came all the way over here, I figured maybe you'd like to stay for dinn-"

"Yes," he answered unhesitatingly – the interruption welcome as she'd started to babble. Once he was actually inside with the door closed, and after she'd poured them both a generous glass of wine, things loosened up a little. He always seemed more comfortable in private, making it easier for them to relax and enjoy one another's company; maybe it because they didn't have to worry about onlookers, or perhaps he was just used to socialising this way – for a long time it had only been him and Minion.

She hadn't cooked anything fancy, but he still insisted upon it being delicious, even after she told him not to flatter her because it was condescending. He offered an 'exchange of favours' meaning that he'd do the washing up, but she said not to bother and they both retired to the lounge. He tended to make more of a mess when trying to perform domestic tasks than actually helping anyway.

He ended up slumped comfortably at one end of her sofa, long legs sprawled all the way over her coffee table and idly swirling half a glass of red; he didn't look villainous, he didn't even look heroic. He just looked like himself for once, no performance or presentation. In his other hand he grasped her television remote, over which he exerted supreme authority, and Roxanne was in no mood to fight him for it – least of all when he was holding red wine over her nice unstained sofa. He channel surfed with the attention span of a hyperactive child, chattering over anything he found boring, and gesturing far too wildly with his half-full glass. Consequently, Roxanne was very glad to see him finish the last of it, and edged closer along the sofa with the intention of getting the article away from him.

"Shall I take that for you?" she offered with almost no pretences of it being optional at all, and closed her hand around the glass before he'd even finished lowering it from his mouth. She set it on the far end of the coffee table, safely out of range, and settled back only to realise she'd moved about a seat closer to him in the process. She then felt silly for noticing, even if it appeared that he'd had also noted the shift too; his free arm stretched out along the back of the sofa, and could have easily moved to sit across her shoulders if either of them had done anything about it, but didn't.

As he surfed restlessly through channels, they eventually climbed up into the news section and a recognised and much-disliked flashed up on the screen: Lance Johnson.

"Turn that crap over," Roxanne murmured disapprovingly, and his finger pulsed on command, switching the channel; but he stopped there, and it took her a moment or two to realise that he'd twisted his head to look at her. "What?" she shot, noting his expression.

"I like it when you use bad language," he professed, wearing what was quite possibly a smirk.

"What? Why?" she prompted, and the almost-smirk turned into the genuine article.

"It suits you," he remarked, and Roxanne rolled her eyes with a little huff.

"I have _no_ idea what you're talking about," she replied, lacking sincerity.

"No, no, I encourage it," he said with a sultry edge. "Start small, and soon you'll work your way up to bigger things."

"Bigger things?" she echoed sarcastically.

"Ohh I don't know, off the top of my head... jaywalking, loitering in non-loitering zones, keeping _on _the grass?" he offered, abandoning the remote to draw a thumb down the back of his ear thoughtfully.

"You can't be serious," she scoffed, turning back to the tv and waiting for him to skip channels again. When he didn't, she turned back to him disbelievingly. "You're serious?"

"I'm merely offering some constructive pointers," he said politely.

"I thought we were done with this."

"With what?" he questioned, appearing genuinely bemused.

"With the... this whole... getting me to misbehave," she explained stiffly.

"Hm, well you could put it like that, I suppose," he consented. "Minion and I deigned to call it _'Project: Making Roxanne Ritchi Go Bad',_ but as they say, a horse by any other name." Roxanne would have laughed at the mismatched phrases, were she not trying to process what he was saying in a way that made it sound acceptably strange – which was sometimes the best she could hope for.

"So what, you're trying to turn me?" she questioned disbelievingly. "Isn't that a little contradictory? I mean, you _are _the city's hero."

"Only when I'm working," he replied suavely.

"And what does _that_ mean?" she quick-fired.

"It means I never committed to being a hero all day every day," he answered promptly, and she wondered if that was what she was expecting of him – what Metro Man had given, but what had ultimately forced him away.

After realising that he couldn't allow the city to believe Megamind had murdered their hero, Metro Man had made once last appearance – announcing that his death had been a carefully planned stunt, and that he was going to hand over his duties to Megamind before disappearing for good. Although Music Man occasionally toured through the city, that was the most they ever saw of him. Heroism came with a lot of pressure, but people never seemed to think before expecting perfection.

"I can be what I want in my leeisure time," Megamind mispronounced.

"Which is an exponent of evil for all?" she taunted.

"Of course not," he countered indignantly, "that would be ridiculous. Just you."

"In which case I'm flattered," she said with the intention of it being a joke.

"You should be," he replied so surely that her comment by extension seemed sincere, and she wondered if maybe she _should _feel like she was being paid a compliment, if in his own strange way. "It is a rare honour to be bestowed upon an individual," he added egotistically.

"Oh, don't be insufferable," she scolded.

"But I'm not," he replied, and as he repositioned a moment later, stretching out his limbs, she took it as good an excuse as any to put a hand behind her head and tug his arm off the sofa onto her shoulders. He said nothing but shuffled again to better fit the position, her neck in the crook of his elbow, comfortable with the small contact. In spite of not really doing anything, time still seemed to pass with unnatural speed, and before long it was late, with work still waiting in the morning. Slowly they extracted themselves from a well-set groove in the sofa, and she saw him to the door.

"This was nice," she commented, and he offered her a gracious smile.

"Yes, it was. Thank you for the meal," he said softly, "and... the rest."

"No problem," she replied. "G'nite." Knowing it was a spur of the moment thing, and that if she stopped to think it would pass, she stepped forward – holding Megamind by the arm to keep him from jumping out of the way – and kissed him, no more than a peck on the lips, but going by his expression he looked like she'd just awarded him a Nobel Peace Prize.

"... Goodnight," he said with a stunned vacancy, and walked back a few steps without turning around, as if he wasn't quite sure of the correct procedure. She smiled at him, half-amused, but half-reassuring.

"Goodnight," she echoed, and then finally had to shut the door and start on the washing up.

* * *

Loooooonger chapter this time, as I didn't want to go chopping up scenes when they'd draw to a natural close. Hope it goes down well, I've certainly enjoyed writing this. Thanks to all readers and reviewers so far!


	4. Phase Four

This chapter is _even longer _than the last because there was a part I wanted to end on specifically so I just threw it in there. The more (words) the merrier!

* * *

_Greyscale_

4

* * *

After dinner at her expense, Megamind insisted that he owed Roxanne a meal in return, and was so unwaveringly persistent on the matter that she eventually let him treat her at one of Metro City's best restaurants, even if he _was_ paying for it with the City's ill-gotten money. He certainly wasn't cooking for her, because as far as she could tell if Minion wasn't catering he lived off junk that he only occasionally heated up first. So a restaurant was definitely the the preferable option; having finished an impressive main course, their conspicuously-trying-not-to-stare waiter asked if they'd like to order dessert.

"Oh no, I shouldn't," Roxanne declined politely, and then noticed Megamind's eyes on her as if she had asked for garbage ice-cream.

"You shouldn't?" he said quizzically. "Why?"

"What? I just meant no," she replied, trying unsuccessfully to shoot the waiter a 'five more minutes' look.

"You didn't say no, you said you _shouldn't_," he pointed out. "Why shouldn't you?"

"I... well... it's fattening," she admitted. "An ice cream sundae will go right onto my hips.". Megamind looked at her like everything she said was more confusing than the last.

"You're... let me get this straight," he phrased. "You're declining it on the basis that-"

"It'll make me fat," she shot uncomfortably, lowering her voice and hoping no one except the nosey waiter was listening in. "Yes. Okay, so can we just-"

"But you're not fat," he interjected far too loudly for her liking. At least one person looked around. Not that she didn't appreciate his reassurance.

"Okay," she said, going from trying to stare the waiter off to just avoiding eye contact at all.

"I mean it," he insisted. "I like everything about you, Roxanne. An arbitrary change to the dimensions of your body is not going to make a difference." It was a compliment, however oddly disguised, but before she could say anything more there was a harsh scream from the door of the restaurant.

"MEGAMIIIIND!" a frantic stranger bellowed, and the entire restaurant turned toward the figure braced across the doorway. "Thank goodness I found you! You have to _do_ something!"

"Well, I was about to order dessert," he replied coolly, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I mean, the old post office is on fire!" the distressed man explained.

"I see. So the fire service?" he inquired. "Where are they?"

"What? Well... they're on the scene..." the citizen murmured with far less hyperbole.

"And is there anyone still in the building?" Megamind questioned without the much of a sense of urgency.

"Um... they were all evacuated when it started," the informant replied.

"So what you are telling me is that an empty building is burning down, whilst the relevant emergency services are on-site?" he suggested caustically, and Roxanne started to have a worrying feeling about where the conversation was headed.

"I... suppose," the citizen murmured.

"While I appreciate the update, as you can see I am _off-duty_," Megamind replied unsympathetically. "Unless the fire would like to come back later, I do not see what I am supposed to do about it."

_"What?"_

"What!" Roxanne shot at the same time as the outraged citizen, as well as several guests of the restaurant. "You're just going to ignore it?" she hissed at him across the table.

"He _said _it was an old building," Megamind retorted. "There are no lives endangered, and the emergency services ought to be able to do _their job _and prevent the fire from spreading. If they still need my help in, oh, a couple of hours, I will consider it enough of an emergency to put off my existing plans," he explained without a hint of shame.

"But you're the city's hero!" the waiter contributed bluntly, and Megamind gave him a scolding look.

"Maybe so," he shot, "but I am not a nanny to the city's every upset and problem. Tonight I am _off-duty, _so unless the situation becomes grave I'd appreciate it if you left me and my companion alone." He must have noticed the worrisome looks even Roxanne was giving him, because he gave a great, exaggerated huff and then brought up his watch to his mouth. "Minion, status on the post office fire," he droned into the intercom.

"_Under control, sir. If it progresses I was going to send in brainbots Alpha to Hotel to assist_," the watch answered in return.

"Excellent. Thank you, Minion." He then removed his hand with a pointed stare to meet the judgemental ones extended his way. Roxanne felt a little shamed that she had been so quick to doubt he was in control of the situation, and realised that others could not be any better. She felt a very sudden urge to get away from the restaurant.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" she said abruptly, picking up her purse off the table. She didn't want to sit there pretending that they weren't noticing the silent judgement, the unspoken criticism.

"Why?" he replied curiously.

"Well I... why don't we go somewhere more private instead?" she suggested. "You know, away from all these people." She knew it would appeal to him, with his preference for being away from crowds, so he didn't have to consider it for long.

"All right then," he agreed. "If you get our coats, I'll settle the bill and see you outside."

"Right, see you in a sec," she said optimistically, hoping as she strode out that Megamind would at least pay the restaurant what they were owed instead of dehydrating the maître-dee and helping himself to their petty cash, which she certainly wouldn't put past him if he were in a bad mood. His 'coat' was not actually so much of a coat as a cape, which he lifted from her arm as he met her outside a little longer than it ought to take to pay a bill later.

"What did you do?" she questioned suspiciously, and he just smirked as he swirled the cloak over his shoulders, turning up the collar for warmth and or style.

"What do you mean?" he tittered. "I merely explained their faux pas in allowing a delusional madman to run into their restaurant and scream at guests, then suggested that if they did not want such an event publicised by a remarkably well-respected journalist, they would be best-advised to give us a free meal." He paused for a while as Roxanne's eyes widened. "Oh what now?" he asked begrudgingly, becoming far too adept at spotting her disapproval face.

"You used _me_?" she questioned disbelievingly.

"A little, yes," he answered. "... Is that a problem?"

"I just didn't, you used my position and status?" she mumbled unsurely. "I'm not sure how I feel about that." Her reputation wasn't something for him to throw around, just as she'd never use his that way.

"Relax, Roxanne, you're getting caught up in being too good again," he assured, patting her on the shoulder comfortingly. "It was just a little coercive persuasion; I didn't even threaten to destroy or dehydrate any of them." Although he appeared so puzzled by what she thought was wrong, she knew he had a very good grasp of good and evil; he'd based most of his life on that division. He just adhered to those boundaries as and when it suited him.

"Sure, but you still..." she half-began, and then found herself stuck for words. "Drop your own name, not mine," she told him, "at least, not without asking me first." She reckoned it was a fair compromise, and he recognised her rulemaking voice when he heard it.

"Very well," he conceded uninterestedly. "It's done now. Can we at least go and roast marshmallows before that post office fire burns out?" he suggested brightly, and she burst out laughing.

"Good one," she chuckled, and then there was a silence that lasted far too long not to be an awkward pause. "Wait, you're not joking?"

"We did skip dessert," he pointed out.

"I don't believe this," she bemoaned, but then stopped to think about it – would _not _roasting marshmallows on the fire actually put it out? Would being indignant that there _was_ a fire change anything? Furthermore, shouldn't he, as a hero, be allowed to step back and let the city handle an emergency by itself? When she thought about it it all made perfect sense, yet she'd found herself wanting to object; Roxanne realised very suddenly how uptight she was being, and didn't like it one bit.

"All right," she answered gamely. Megamind, however, appeared so set on her inevitable refusal that he did a double-take.

"Really?" he asked with unashamed delight.

"Sure," she answered with a shrug. "I mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

The worst that could happen, as it turned out, was a front-page photo on the morning paper of them both trying to roast an entire pack of marshmallows over the smoking remains of the post office; it read _'Nero Roasts While the City Burns' _and was naturally teamed with a televised report by Lance Johnson. Roxanne actually felt slightly sick the first time she saw it. However, though not the best publicity, they hadn't actually done anything _wrong_, just a little distasteful. So she knew it'd blow over eventually, but still couldn't help regretting it. Now wasn't the time to risk tarnishing Megamind's fragile reputation for silly kicks.

In fact, the saddest thing was that it _had _been fun; trawling around with him for marshmallows at a nonsensical hour of the night, and then scaling the fire escape on the next building to get onto the roof. Actually roasting their haul over the dying flames had been extremely difficult, but Megamind being the thinker he was designed a variety of makeshift tools and techniques for toasting, most of which ended up as burnt sugar. They'd had a lot of fun – more fun than staying in the restaurant eating ice cream and feeling fat would have been. However, the scandal dubbed 'marshmallowgate' ruined any good feeling she might have had about the experience, and put a bit of a downer on the rest of her week; though, she at least managed to stop Megamind from completely destroying Lance Johnson's house a second time after his vicious coverage of the story.

Lance, incidentally, was surprised with a tourist group of twenty turning up outside his recently-repainted house, who explained in poor English that they had recently purchased the property and were intent on moving in. Apparently the vendor had been a _meester secand chanse, _and investigation showed their deposit had been paid into the account of a 'M. G. Mind'. Not that the police bought a word of it.

It took about a week for the drama to bubble down, during which Roxanne spent more time than usual in the lair with Megamind, as it proved to be the best spot for avoiding unwanted publicity. Then, even when the drama passed, the habit continued, and she found herself spending more and more time there; on one such occasion, she was persuaded to 'test out' a new recipe for rocky road that Minion had developed.

"The walnuts are a good addition," she complimented the chef, who seemed thrilled, even if she was suspicious it was some kind of scheme to get her eating fatty food without feeling guilty.

"You really think so?" Minion gushed.

"There's no marshmallows," Megamind contributed through his own sample mouthful, leant all the way back on one of his chairs with his feet propped up on a dashboard.

"Exactly," she proclaimed. "If there's one thing I don't want any more of, it's marshmallows." Megamind chuckled, eyes flitting over to a cutout of the infamous photo, which was now hung from the ceiling with the rest of his favourite pictures of himself – if she didn't know better, she'd think he was proud of it.

"You like the walnuts? I thought it was a bit out there, but I wanted to try something new," Minion chattered. "Can you taste a hint of nutmeg? I put a dash in, but only a pinch because it can be _so _overpowering."

"Uhh, sure," Roxanne concurred. "They're great."

"Are you _certain_? Have another," Minion offered, waving a floral-print tin at her.

"No thanks," she declined. "I'm fine." She noticed Megamind's eyes on her calculatingly.

"_Shouldn't_ you?" he prompted.

"Not all of us have outer-world metabolisms," she commented, but on seeing his blank expression, realised that she would have to just spell it out in black and white."Look, while you might not think my weight or appearance is important, I _do_," she started very clearly. "What I do or don't eat is none of your business."She finished with a look that had Minion politely retracting the tin of baked goods and Megamind holding his tongue for once in his smart-talking life.

She knew his heart was in the right place, but her appearance was important to people other than him; she had her career to think of for one. Although stern, she wasn't angry; they both knew that she had to lay down boundaries sometimes because there were a lot of things he simply didn't understand. He respected her conventions and rules just as she took into account that he had a different outlook on the world, always trying to keep an open mind. There was no way they could have made it this far without compromise

Long after they'd moved on, and were debating what ingredients were meant to signify the 'rocky' part of rocky road, an alarm bell went off on the panel Megamind had his feet on. Spinning in his office chair, he rolled over and slammed his fist down on a button, flashing up what looked like fuzzy video feed from a brainbot onto one of the monitors; the bot appeared to be facing down at least ten burly men on motorbikes.

"Back up, gamma," he instructed down an intercom, and the image started to pan out. Roxanne got up from her seat and hung over his shoulder curiously, while the brainbot focused and they were finally able to make out the pattern on a flag hanging from the back of one biker.

"Oh no," she murmured as Megamind took in a deep breath. It was the mark of a gang, notorious for their habit of riding into a town and setting up camp as long as they could hold the law enforcement off. They'd burgle, mug and run a reign of terror for as long as they felt like, as the police forces were generally terrified and ill-equipped to deal with them.

"They're getting closer," Megamind said coolly, as if he'd been tracking them for a while. "I think I know where they're headed." Without another word, he shut off the monitor and stood up.

"Wait, you're going after them?" Roxanne guessed quickly, while Minion started to run around and hand Megamind armour and pieces of equipment, Brainbots descending from above with an array of capes.

"No, I thought I'd go out for a cosy stroll in the park," he answered sarcastically. "Best to catch them before they stop and entrench themselves," he pointed out, opening up an extensive weapons cabinet and perusing with a careful eye.

Roxanne wanted to say he shouldn't go – she'd covered stories on what this gang had done to people, and although she knew this was _exactly _the sort of thing Megamind was the city's hero for, she couldn't help the underlying fear that something might happen to him. Metro Man she'd never had to worry about, he'd been invincible – still was, as far as she knew – but Megamind was vulnerable. He could be _broken_, and words couldn't express how much she did not want that.

"I'll... I'll tell the station," she forced herself to say as he and Minion geared up for what would be one hell of a fight. "What?" she said in response to their critical glances.

"That's your first course of action?" he said sardonically. "Call the television crew?"

"Hey, I'm still a reporter. If you're going to get stuck in with a biker gang for the sake of Metro City, then you'll damn well do it on camera," she retorted boldly; for a moment he let the statement sink in, and then Megamind grinned.

"In which case, we better take the firework launcher, Minion," he announced. "Wouldn't want to deny the city a show, would we?"

"Wait!" she interjected, and he halted on command, half-freezing and turning to meet her in question. "Wear the white cape," she suggested, "it looks better on camera." Megamind let out a chuckle, and mock-bowed at her.

"As the lady wishes," he jested, and by prime time that night a real-life action movie was taking place across Metro City's television sets. The streets were dark, spots of pasty lamplight casting the bikers into shadow, smoke pouring from their exhaust pipes as engines revved.

Then, all of a sudden, a deep rumbling shook the street, and two sharp spotlights shone down from above; with a slam that sent a shockwave all the way out to the cautiously-placed camera crew, Megamind landed in the middle of the road on a heavily remodelled hoverbike. All the engines dropped to a purr, and the sound crew edged closer as Megamind and the head of the gang dismounted their machines.

"Will ya lookat this skinny-ass weirdo," growled their leader. "I heard Metro City had some kinda hero, but what government bunker did they kick _you_ out of?"

"Hark, it speaks," Megamind sneered. "I would say look at the hairy human, but are you even that far evolved? Did they simply leave your cage unlocked at the zoo?"

"Why you-" the biker snapped, pulling back an arm to throw a punch, which Megamind ducked with relative ease, stepping out of the way and shoving the leader in the back.

"Now, I am going to say this only once," he began. "You and all your sad, would-be minions should run along back to whatever primordial soup you crawled out of... _or_," he posed, "you can stay, and this might actually get interesting." The lead biker spat on the road, straightened himself up and then did what could only be equated to grunting at Megamind.

"Interestin'?" he hawed. "We'll see. Boys!" he bellowed, and then the headlights went up on about fifty headlights that had previously been off, disguising their numbers. Luckily the cameras didn't catch Megamind's look of surprise, although the sound crew did pick up his response.

"Oh, there's more of you than I realised," he remarked quietly, just as the leader threw out an arm and signalled his army to descend. Engines roared, lights sending off glare in all directions, and then a cloud of brawling men and metal closed in around Megamind. There was a sound of glass breaking, and from the centre of the mass spread a thick, cloudy smoke. The fight quickly became far more chaotic, and soon from within the great huddle came flashes of coloured light.

Suddenly, with a shrill whistling noise, a jet of bright blue firework shot out of the brawl, sending one man and a motorbike flying out of the cloud. Several more of the gang went flying in the opposite direction on a decidedly pink burst of chemical explosives, and then with another shock of light and sound Megamind burst into view from the centre of the cloud, firing from a launcher-style weapon holsters across his shoulder and bludgeoning people with it between reloads.

Although clearly at a technological advantage, he couldn't remain unscathed throughout the conflict, sustaining a number of nasty blows from the quickly-depleting numbers. But eventually the only member left standing was the leader, the remnants of what had once been a mohawk smoking on top of his head.

"I did promise that things would get interesting," Megamind remarked cheerfully, spinning his firework launcher around one arm and then slinging it over his back. "Now, allow me to make this absolutely clear," he elaborated. "This is _my_ town, for good or for ill, so when I tell you to run, you better take your silly wind-up motors and _beat it!_" The gang leader gave a jitter and then started to sprint away – not even bothering to pick up the knarled wreckage on his bike – followed by any of his associates who were still in a position to keep up.

"Metro City!" Megamind announced to the cameras, pronouncing the city's name correctly for once. "I..." he spread out his arms, and then suddenly lost momentum and dropped them again. "You know what, my actions speak for themselves," he finished, and turned to search for Minion in the car, no longer expecting anything from the people.

But then the first spectator started clapping, and in a heartbeat they were _all _clapping and cheering.

Minion arrived moments later in the car, dragging behind him a somewhat mangled hoverbike frame, and rolled down his window to wave to the crowds, while Megamind –grinning like a cat with a bathtub full of cream – bowed and then climbed into the back seat, collapsing the moment they were out of sight.

"Are you okay, sir?" Minion inquired, slipping away from the eager-to-interview news teams.

"M'fine," Megamind mumbled, face mashed against the car seat, arms hanging limply to the floor. Retuning to the lair, Minion fussed and tried to carry him, but could only settle on Megamind leaning on an arm as he made his way from the car inside.

"Megamind?" came a voice that neither of them had expected to be there, and he immediately let go of Minion and straightened up, only to wobble and grab hold of him again moments later.

"Roxanne?" he replied unenthusiastically. "You're still here?" His best chair span around to reveal Roxanne, legs curled up underneath herself and chin propped on one hand.

"Of course I am," she answered. "I never left."

"You didn't... I mean you... and you stayed here the whole time?" he babbled, trying to draw himself up to his full height but shaking too much to do so convincingly; then his eyes narrowed. "You didn't _touch_ anything, did you?" he asked suspiciously – even she wasn't allowed unsupervised in his workspace.

"Maybe," she teased with a grin; Megamind attempted a scowl, then winced. "Sorry, are you all right?" she said with a rush of guilt, jumping up and waving him into her seat, which Minion bunded him into it more-or-less against his will.

"I'm fine, absolutely fi-ow!" he yelped as she prodded one of his arms inquisitively.

"Right, clearly you're _fine_," she parodied.

"Okay, there may be some very mild bruising... and possible bone fractures," he muttered hurriedly, as if speed was the key to explaining these things without trouble. "Nothing that a little rest won't fix. Were you watching?" he added hopefully.

"I thought I wasn't supposed to touch anything?" she pointed out, and he pouted, torn. "It took a while to make the big screen work, but of course I did," she said with a quiet laugh. "I'm sure you'll hear this over and over after tonight, but it was great."

"I could hear something a million times from every citizen in Metrocity, and it would matter if you said it, Roxanne," he replied softly, disarming her with his brand of heart-wrenching sincerity. She smiled and reminded herself that hugging him would probably hurt, so was best saved until another time.

"Well, for the official record then, I thought you were fantastic," she complimented, and could have sworn his cheeks went very slightly pink. "Anyway, not to love you and leave you, but the office is going to be hectic tomorrow with this story out and it's getting late, so I better head back home," she excused, having only stayed to make sure he was all right.

"I beg your pardon?" he interjected with a touch of alarm. "To _what?_"

"To, uh... love you and leave you, it's an expression," she replied, awkwardly realising what it might sound like to someone who hadn't heard the phrase before, and doing a little blushing of her own. "Anyway. I'm glad you're okay, so rest up and recover. I'll see you soon."

"Would you like me to take you home?" Minion offered.

"I brought my car, but thanks," she responded. "Great job, both of you. I'll see myself out." Megamind didn't look like he was in a position to be getting up and strolling around aimlessly anyway, but offered her a weary wave with a half-ripped open glove.

"Goodnight!" added Minion cheerily; although, she noticed he'd been scuttling around collecting what were probably medical supplies, so would likely be pleased to see her go just so that Megamind would stop putting on a brave face and accept treatment.

Accordingly, Minion insisted on plying him with painkillers and cool-packs once Roxanne had left; the damage was nothing severe, just bruising and fatigue – nothing he wasn't used to – but it weighed just as heavily as it ever had, limbs stiff and sore. As he prepared for an early night, it was only half-way through brushing his teeth in the lair's modern, underfloor-heated bathroom that he even noticed the mirror above the sink had been defaced since his last visit.

Roxanne had clearly meant it when she hinted at having touched something while he was gone, because across the mirror in loopy italics it said _'well done'_ in what looked very much like lipstick. Then he noticed the strange smear below – initially he took it as a failed addendum, and a moment later realised it was in fact a mouthprint. Of what he assumed could only be _her_ mouth, on _his_ mirror. It didn't take long to realise what she did to make such a mark, or what the intended effect was.

Megamind appreciated being was alone at that point, as he didn't have to worry about anyone seeing his reaction; a cocktail of embarrassment and complete and utter adoration.

* * *

This one's been _looooong_ and far more drama/action based than some of the more comedic chapters, but that's the way stories progress. I love me some genfic because the original movie is general itself, including drama, action, romance and comedy in a wonderful balance. I really am inspired so much by the brilliance of the original, so it must take a lot of credit for what I do. Anyway, ciao ciao all!


	5. Phase Five

Double/daily update! Woop-doop. From what I hear in reviews people seem to be enjoying Megamind sticking to his bad (at least mischievous) ways in this fic, which I think is great because he was 'bad' when we all came to like him (I may have just rewatched the movie eeee), and it seems to defeat a crucial part of his character to lose that, even in the transition to being a hero.

I kinda wanted to raise some issues in this story that I felt hadn't necessarily been touched on before - a lot of fics go through MM being influenced into becoming more good, but I wanted to flip it over and look at how _he _might influence Roxanne. Although he's a character with insecurities, he does also have a good deal of confidence too, so I really wanted to capture that cocky, flashy side to him.

* * *

_Greyscale_

5_  
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* * *

The buzz over Megamind's triumph against the bikers lasted for an entire week; even Lance Johnson couldn't find a bad angle to report, and was barely able to present the story with a straight face. The people of Metro City started to get the idea that although Megamind was a very different kind of hero to Metro Man, he could still be counted on. So aside from traffic wardens living in a constant state of anxiety, minor mischief was looked upon more sympathetically in light of recent events. After everything had returned to near-normality, Roxanne was in the break room one day getting a coffee,when her boss happened to walk in; since things with Megamind had settled down, she'd had him looming outside her door far less frequently, rather liking things that way.

"Roxanne," he greeted, walking past her for the coffee machine. "How's it going?"

"Great, thanks," she replied, grateful to only have to make small talk for once.

"Actually," he said, "there was something I wanted to run by you, if you have a minute." Her notion of meaningless chatter died quickly.

"Sure," she replied with a false injection of cheer. "What can I do for you?"

"You know about the gala that's coming up, right?" She nodded – everyone down to the cleaners knew about the gala – City Hall were hosting a high-brow event for the city's brightest and boldest; the mayor leading guests such as the head of the police, fire services, deans of medicine from the city's biggest hospitals, editors of the top papers, her boss, and a number of other journalists or TV personalities. For a moment, she thought 'and Metro Man' and realised a second later that of course, he wouldn't be there any more. Her next thought was about who would instead.

"Wait," she began.

"Well, I wanted to offer you a ticket," her boss said genially. "For you and a guest to-"

"I assume by 'guest' you mean, 'Megamind'?" she interrupted bluntly; this was not something she was going to pussyfoot around.

"Well, yes, I mean, no... I mean, it's your ticket," he explained disjointedly. "You're free to bring anyone you want... _but_," he added guiltily, "you know, if he wanted to attend, he'd be very welcome."

"Can I ask just one thing?" she said boldly. "Are you giving me this ticket because I deserve it, Daniel, or because people think that I'm Megamind's... that if I go, he'll come with me?" she phrased with deliberate ambiguity.

"Roxanne, I was told to give this invite to my best reporter," he answered with what seemed sincerity. "Megamind or not, I would still be offering it to you." He pulled out a planner from his pocket and flicked through the pages for a safely-stored ticket, which he handed to her. "It's yours," he added as she took it from him, "you deserve it."

"Oh... well thanks," she said, feeling humbled. She couldn't deny being defensive about her connection to Megamind, especially where her job was concerned. She wanted to be appreciated for her work, not who she saw outside of it.

"But, you know," he commented with faux-innocence, "if you did want to bring Megamind, that would be fantastic." Roxanne tried not to roll her eyes too conspicuously, but knew she didn't have anyone better to invite – plus, it would be good publicity for him.

"This is a strictly social occasion, right?" she added, making sure she wasn't going to have a report to write up after the event.

"Oh absolutely," he replied. "You're not on the clock for it. No follow-up necessary."

"Well thanks again," she said graciously, and glanced at her watch. "That's my break up, so I should get going."

"Of course," he responded. "If I don't see you before then, I'll see you at the gala."

"Sure, see you soon," she offered as a final departure, making her way back to her office without quite being able to decide if she thought the development was a good or bad thing. Megamind, however, seemed to think it was a wonderful idea when she proposed it to him, even after she tried to explain that things like this were rarely all they were cracked up to be.

The concept of a dress code, however, escaped him. But when she explained it was 'formal' dress did not necessarily mean his best cape, and that most other men there would be wearing tuxedos or dinner suits, he became even more enthusiastic, and in light of his heroic status wanted an entirely white suit.

"No," she said firmly.

"What do you mean?" he replied dolefully. "I thought you said white looked good on me."

"No," she repeated again. "No white suits, Megamind."

"I fail to see the difference here, Roxanne," he retorted a lot more cattily. "Unless you have been misleading me about-"

"No, no, no!" she insisted. "You cannot wear a white tux!"

"Why not!" he shot, petulant like a tantruming child.

"Because they are an abomination," she stated uncompromisingly. "It has nothing to do with you," she explained a little more sympathetically, "but you should not, _cannot_, not _ever_, wear an entirely white suit."

"Is this another of your strange conventions?" he questioned sarcastically.

"It's a matter of good taste," she spat back at him. "No one can pull it off, not even you." He managed to get away with a lot of outrageous costume choices, but this really was out of his league. Out of _anyone's_ league.

"Sir, I have to agree with her on this," contributed Minion.

"No one asked you!" he retorted rudely, and then fell quiet. Roxanne and Minion looked at each other, then both crossed their arms and gave Megamind a long, hard, punishing look. No one shouted at Minion, not even him.

"... Oh fine," he relented. "I didn't want to wear one anyway."

Once the white-suit-scenario idea had been buried deep in the ground, along with the notions that capes and super-outfits were not the same as formal dress, Roxanne felt fairly secure in leaving Megamind to his own devices as far as the dress code went. He apparently didn't share the same faith in her, because he sent a text message a few days before the event asking if she could wear a particular shade of blue, or failing that, black. If his collection of boots and shoes hadn't already been a giveaway, she knew for certain that he very definitely took aesthetics more seriously than she did.

Although she would have avoided wearing anything likely to clash against him anyway, his request pushed her toward a black dress she hadn't worn in a good few years. She subsequently remembered why – because aside from being racier than her usual tastes, it was also very difficult to drive in, having far too much skirt and far little movement. The saving grace was that she only had to go as far as the lair; she and Megamind had to arrive together at least because he was her guest, and he'd offered to drive in the invisible car because it was 'easier to park' in his own words, which she wasn't going to contest.

She parked her own car out of sight, changed into her heels, and then spent a good minute putting her dress back into all the right places before she approached the entrance to the lair; she stepped the fake wall and knocked on a real one as she wandered in.

"Hello?" she shouted, walking further into the lair but seeing no trace of him.

"One minute!" Megamind called back from somewhere beyond obvious sight. "Running late, I'll meet you at the car!" Although a combination of her heels and dress slowed her down a bit, she still made it there with time to spare before Megamind came bounding over. "Sorry to keep you wait-" he started apologetically, and then stopped dead. He was wearing an honest-to-god full suit, which was thankfully black, and a deep sapphire shirt with a thin tie, also black; though his shoes were pointed, that was the very closest he got to a spike from head to foot.

"Wow," she said.

"Wow," he said right back, mouth hanging open and unashamedly staring. He'd seen her in plenty of dresses before – some formal in years of kidnappings – but in some senses they started over after Metro Man vanished; this was probably his first time seeing her in a dress like this and really looking.

"Uh, where's Minion?" she asked awkwardly, and it took him a moment or two of blank stare, mouth still hanging open, before he had the thought to shut it and answer her.

"Out," he answered briefly. "He, uh, has a thing," he mumbled vaguely, still very much in awe of her in an off-the-shoulder full length dress. "A book club," he amended quickly, shaking his head as if to jostle the daze away.

"Book club?" she echoed. "Minion goes to a _book club?_"

"Yes, so?" he replied almost defensively. "He seems to enjoy it."

"No, I've nothing against the idea," she retracted. "I just didn't have him down as the type." After saying it, she conjured an image of Minion sitting among a group of forty-something wives, chatting excitedly about themes and subtext in the latest bestseller, and realised that she might just be completely wrong. "Never mind," she pushed forward. "Shall we go?"

Megamind nodded, and then actually went so far as to open the passenger-side door for her – she resisted a scathing look on the basis that he was only being polite and she found it hard to mock him in his moments of sincerity.

The gala was being held on the top floor of a well-to-do Metro City hotel, so to sneak past the valet they enabled invisibility before reaching the gates. He parked on a well-kept and extremely off limits lawn, and Roxanne had to walk to the path with her shoes in her hand or risk tracking turf in the door with her; stopping by the border, she reached for Megamind and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hold up," she instructed, steadying herself against him as she slipped one heel back on, then the other and stood up again. He then turned to look at her with mild disdain.

"You are taller than me with those on," he remarked with dismay.

"And?" she retorted, which he seemed to think over for a few moments as they walked towards the lobby.

"You should have warned me. I'll have to wear higher ones myself next time," he concluded, glancing down at his own shoes for a moment before back up at her; she honestly didn't doubt him. The man on the door taking tickets only seemed to notice Megamind when he was right in front of him, and looked up with a start and slight expression of shock.

"Roxanne Ritchi and guest," she announced, holding out her ticket, then waving it in front of the doorman's eyes until he at last came back down to earth and let them through.

"Making ripples already," Megamind remarked with a chuffed air as they walked across a perfectly polished floor to an immaculate lift decorated in tones of white and gold.

"You don't seem to mind," she noted, and he chuckled, pressing the button for the top floor and watching his reflection as the polished gold chrome doors.

"If I was bothered by the attention, do you think I would have come?" he put to her, and then turned around with such an assured, cocky smile that she could almost be convinced he'd never known doubt in his life. He was so completely composed; as much at home in a slim-cut suit and Italian shoes as he was in spiked latex and five inches of collar; it didn't seem fair that he could pull off such different looks so well.

At the top of the lift they hit a security checkpoint, staffed by an envious looking guard who probably wanted to be inside far more than he wanted to be manning a machine outside it. He held up a sullen hand to stop them as they approached the walk-through metal detector.

"One at a time, please," he droned, and Megamind stepped aside to let Roxanne forward. "Do you have anything in your pockets?" he questioned boredly, at which she raised an eyebrow and glanced down at her dress.

"Do I _look_ like I have pockets?" she questioned dryly, and the guard shrugged.

"May I see your bag, please?" he asked, and with a huff she handed it over.

"I must have left my grenades in my other purse," she explained caustically as it was opened and rifled though.

"We have to take full precautions for the safety of all our guests, ma'am," the guard deadpanned, and waved a hand unenthusiastically at the scanner. "Please step through." She passed through without so much as a beep, and had her purse returned safely on the other side. "Thank you."

"Oh, the pleasure was all mine," she sniped, and then Megamind stepped forward.

"Anything in your pockets, sir?" the guard droned monotonously.

"No, officer," he replied with uncharacteristic politeness.

"Please step through," the man instructed, and Megamind walked through, only to elicit a shrill beep from the machine.

"Oh my," he remarked as if discovering he had left his car keys in a slightly different place to usual. "Whatever could that be?"

"Remain where you are, sir," the guard announced, only very slightly less bored. "I have to give you a pat-down to check for weapons."

"But of course," Megamind agreed obligingly. "Shall I remove my jacket?"

"Please," was the droll answer, so he unbuttoned and removed the suit jacket, holding it out to Roxanne.

"Would you mind holding this a moment?" he asked with the same eerie politeness, which only evoked a sceptical look, at least until she felt a weight in her hand, hidden carefully in the folds of the jacket; he winked a single emerald eye at her, then stepped back and spread his arms out. The security guy gave him a quick once-over and then waved him past; without his jacket on, she noticed a hidden touch of his usual style – the cufflinks of his shirt were made from double-ended spikes. She supposed it was probably too much to think he'd totally relinquish his trademarks.

"Thank you, sir," the guard recited, then reached straight for Roxanne. "The jacket please, Ma'am," he requested, and as he reached to pull it from her hands Roxanne closed her fingers around the stashed object and slid it behind her back as casually as she could manage. From the shape alone she could easily guess what it was, but the guard didn't appear to notice her suspicious behaviour as he fumbled through all the pockets, shook the jacket out and then passed it back to Megamind.

"Have a nice evening," was his final, mind-numbingly bored remark, and before Roxanne could start to panic about how she was going to walk away with a gun behind her, Megamind was by her side and spread a long, blue palm across her back, as if to escort her.

"Shall we move on?" he suggested, jacket over one arm and the other set possessively against her, palming the weapon she had been gripping a little too hard as he ushered her away from the checkpoint and around the first corner they came across.

"Did you just make me your _accomplice?_" she hissed the moment they were out of sight and earshot, while Megamind laughed softly and twirled the dehydration gun around a finger, then slipped it into an inside pocket, probably customised for that purpose.

"You didn't have to," he pointed out with amusement, "though I'm glad you did."

"I couldn't... you could've gotten into trouble," she protested. "_I_ couldn't gotten into trouble!"

"But we didn't," he countered mirthfully, a grin a mile wide. "What would a hero be without his weapon?"

"In this setting, he'd be doing the right thing," she scolded.

"Roxanne," he said sternly, wagging a finger at her. "Resist, if you can, any overwhelming feelings of do-goodery or righteousness. If Metro _Mahn_ had been attending such an event, he would be present with full use of all his powers. It is not so outrageous that I should be permitted some small armament of my own."

"You can fast talk me all you want," she retorted crossly, "but you still should have asked instead of just sneaking it past the guard."

"This way, if I don't need it, we're all none the wiser, and if I _do_ I imagine the guests will be too thankful to take offence," he pointed out diplomatically.

"You still could have- oh forget it," she sighed. "What's done is done." Although she'd told herself she would stop nagging and trying to influence him to do good things against his will, she never quite managed it; however, neither did he stop trying to influence her into doing bad things, so in the end they probably cancelled one another out.

"You're learning," he commended slyly, reaching out to slip arm around her waist, but this time without extenuating circumstances; he gave her a look that she could have drank from. "Shall we join the guests?" he suggested with a smooth, velvety murmur, and for a moment she nearly said no, keeping him to herself instead. But that wasn't what they came here for, and she wasn't planning on being caught in a compromising position by just anyone who happened to wander past.

"Sure," she said with a tiny sliver of resignation, and in they went.

* * *

There are pictures that I used for inspiration on both MM's suit (ohgodhisshiiiiiirtandsuits Ilovesuits) and Roxanne's dress on my tumblr, which I believe you can get to off my profile page. This is a slightly shorter chapter, but that's because we're nearing the end now! _(Zomg, a chaptered fic I might actually finish in less than six months)._


	6. Phase Six

_Ohmygaaaawd_ it's the last chapter (before the epilogue).

* * *

_Greyscale_

6

* * *

Inside the Metro City gala everyone and everything looked just about perfect – it was definitely the city's beautiful people out in force. Although there wasn't a full-blown awkward silence when they walked in, Megamind certainly got watched a good deal more than Roxanne did. He claimed it was because of his striking appearance and devoted fans; she knew he substituted a confident reality for ones he didn't like, and stayed close as they smiled and shook hands.

The first familiar face they came across was her boss and his wife. Daniel thanked Roxanne generously for coming and outright beamed at Megamind, then shook his hand and commended him for some great work around the city, which Roxanne could have sworn made him blush, although it was hard to tell with his skin tone in poor light.

"Oh, and I figure it's best that I warn you now," he added as the small-talk started to wane. "Lance Johnson is here."

"Oh great," Roxanne groaned, rolling her eyes as Megamind whipped his head around and scanned the crowds like a hawk.

"I can't imagine he'll start trouble, not here, but I thought I'd let you have a heads up."

"Sure, thanks," she said lowly, and then noticed the mayor giving her and Megamind pointed looks, suggesting that they ought to go over and greet him next – he was their host after all. The two of them walked over to say good evening and offer thanks, but after that she left Megamind and the mayor to it for a while, wandering around to say hi to some other journalists that she knew; they didn't have to spend the entire night screwed at the hip, and he seemed comfortable enough in his element now.

Very comfortable, in fact; when she returned to check up on him, he had an almost-empty champagne flute in his hand and was enthusiastically discussing a special city budget for his use as City Hero – which would have been a good idea if she'd any faith that he would stop claiming millions on the side, of which she had absolutely none at all.

A waiter came around with a tray of glasses, collecting Megamind's empty one and giving him two in return – one of which she took off his hands lest he drink them both. He was the designated driver between the two of them, but as he'd explained before, he metabolised much faster than humans – also accounting for a large appetite – so alcohol also wore off quicker. He also did not get hangovers, which she hated him for.

"How are you?" he asked warmly, placing a hand on her back as he had earlier, still no excuse except to touch her, and she was quite sure they both knew it. "Having fun?"

"Fine, great," she answered, pretending that the mayor wasn't watching them with great interest. "I know a few people here from way back." They were mostly journalists she had worked with years ago, when they were all fresh young things starting out; meeting again at an event dedicated to their success was quite a strange experience really.

The Chief of Police walked up a few minutes later, and started engaging in animated conversation with Megamind about the security of Metro City; while the two of them had started out sworn enemies, the first few weeks very rocky, they'd since managed to strike up a rapport and bad blood was almost forgotten. The Chief seemed to appreciate that Megamind's more 'hands off' approach to heroics left more glory for him and his policemen, not to mention Megamind had given them some key insider information on how to improve their organisation and policing methods.

It was while staring uninterestedly around the room that Roxanne caught sight of a face she recognised, an old, old colleague who she hadn't seen in years – and frankly, didn't expect to see here. She was a minor reporter, if that, and certainly didn't rank among the big name journalists; however, it was very definitely her, so Roxanne quickly excused herself from the rather dull company to go and reacquaint.

"Roxanne!" the woman exclaimed as their eyes met. "Oh my god, it must have been years."

"Too many," she replied ecstatically, opening her arms for a hug, no stiff handshake or professional nod. Her name was Sally, and she'd been a friend, not a colleague, from one of her very first jobs, both fresh out of college. "It's good to see you, Sal."

"Wow, you look great," she commended. "How have you been? Why am I even asking?" she interrupted herself. "Half the city knows how you've been." Roxanne suppressed a grimace and forced a grin.

"Life in the public eye," she bit, pulling a face and earning a smile from her old friend. "I work too much. But how are you? I wasn't expecting to..." she didn't know how to phrase it without sounding condescending.

"To see me here, I know, right?" Sal supplied, and Roxanne wanted to apologise. "It's fine, I wasn't expecting it either. Truth is, I'm here as someone's guest," she explained, which made sense; it seemed a shame to think so little of her professionally, but she had always been a lovely person and a very average journalist.

"Ohh right," Roxanne replied vaguely. "Who are you working for now?" She wished she knew – that she'd kept in touch at all, really, but between balancing work when her career really took off, and being kidnapped every week by Megamind in the heyday of Metro Man, she hadn't much time for a social life at all. Banter with Megamind was often the closest she'd get to doing something outside work in those days.

"I'm at elven now," she answered, and Roxanne realised who else worked for that channel, feeling like she knew what Sal was going to say before she even said it. "I'm here with Lance Johnson." Roxanne must have pulled a face in spite of trying very hard not to, because Sal added, "Hey, I know, but an invite is an invite. When else in my life am I going to get into a party like this?" she pointed out realistically.

"I guess," Roxanne said distastefully.

"Well he's asked me out without success a few times before," she explained with a touch of a confession. "Then he offered to take me here and I just couldn't say no – I really wanted in."

"So he doesn't... know?" Roxanne suggested, not sure whether to be appalled or amused; Sally had never dated men for as long as she'd known her.

"Apparently not," she answered with a shrug. "He asked if I had a boyfriend, once," she recounted with a smirk, "I said no, obviously. Didn't mention a girlfriend." Roxanne decided that she had to find it funny, and cracked a smile which turned into a laugh.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," she said with a slow-fading chuckle. "I could use the company." She knew most of the high-flying journalists or editors among the guests, but she found most of them unbearable. Too much ego and competition – they all only wanted to talk about themselves, and she spent enough time with Megamind that when she thought someone was an egomanic she really meant it.

"What about your date?" Sal struck with no attempt at subtlety. Roxanne was getting used to it, everyone wanting a piece of Megamind, courtesy of her insider information.

"Oh, he's talking city with the police chief and the mayor I think," she answered dismissively. "I'm sure I only got my ticket because they all assumed I'd bring him with me," she added coolly. She wasn't sure the party-planners had realised that Megamind loved nothing more than a chance to showcase, and if they'd just sent him his own ticket he would have assuredly shown up as guest of honour and probably brought his own laser disco to boot.

"He seems to be holding his own," she remarked.

"Holding his own? I'm just hoping no one plays any AC/DC," Roxanne muttered. She got a bemused look for her trouble, and waved it off. "Never mind," she assured Sal.

"Hey, by the way, I really hated all the spin our channel put on the whole... that whole scandal thing," she said apologetically.

"It's fine," Roxanne accepted, knowing that she wouldn't have been able to do anything about it from her position.

"No really, Roxy, I'm sorry," she insisted. "Not just Megamind, but for you too. Lance can be a real dickhead, he's just got a big chip on his shoulder about you."

"That much I guessed," she replied caustically, then offered Sal a friendly smile. "You shouldn't have to say sorry. It's okay."

"Yeah, but I wanted to," she insisted. "Not all of us at channel eleven are pricks." She had been looking down at the floor, but then cast her eyes up, and straight over Roxanne's shoulder. "Ooh, I think I'm monopolising you," she commented playfully, and Roxanne glanced back to see Megamind watching her with a 'who's that' look on his face.

"So what?" she replied.

"You better not tell him I'll like women," Sal teased,"he'll get jealous." Roxanne laughed with her, not minding the joke – from Sal it was acceptable in a way it wouldn't be from other people, even when it'd been years since they spoke.

"He'll manage. Where's your 'date' anyway?" she queried. "I've been dreading seeing him all evening."

"Out on the balcony somewhere I imagine," Sal answered uninterestedly. "He smokes like a chimney. Enough of him. So you and Megamind-" she started out.

"Uh, I'd rather not, actually," Roxanne said uncomfortably; it was difficult to explain something she didn't quite have a definition on herself, and she didn't like to share her private life at the best of times, much less when it involved Megamind.

"Oh, sorry," Sal retracted; the years had still brought a distance between them. Perhaps they could patch it up, though; Roxanne reminded herself to get in touch properly after this. "I didn't mean to pry, just curious."

"You wouldn't be the first," she remarked with a softness to her voice.

"Sure, I know," Sal replied. "Anyway," she said, "moving swiftly on, you look fantastic."

"Pshh," Roxanne dismissed. Next to Sal she'd always felt like a pig's ear – she was stunning, and still as attractive now as when they were younger. It wasn't hard to see why Lance Johnson would try and woo her with a pass into a high-profile event, even if he had somehow missed that she was gay – he probably just couldn't conceive of a woman that was off-limits to him, reasoned Roxanne disparagingly.

"Oh look," Sal interjected, tilting her head back to look over Roxanne's shoulder again. "Here comes trouble." Roxanne span, expecting to see Lance Johnson bearing down with his unbearable fake smile, but instead it was just Megamind, striding with purpose but no cape to flow behind him dramatically.

"Hey," she got the first word in as he came into earshot. "You all right?"

"Of course," he replied surely, as if she was mad for even asking. His eyes were on her for only a moment before flicking over to her company.

"Oh, this is Sal," Roxanne introduced, satiating his curiosity. "We once worked together."

"A long time ago now," Sal joked, and then offered her hand to Megamind. "It's really a thrill to meet you." He seemed to be used to the drill by now, and shook her hand with a friendly smile.

"So, you used to work with Roxanne?" he inquired politely, and then the scripted veneer dropped, interest flashing in his captivating eyes. "What was she like?" He was deeply curious about her life before he'd known her.

"She was a workaholic," Sal answered after a moment's consideration.

"I still am," Roxanne added, but before any of them could get comfortable she sighted a quiff that had far too much product in it, and felt a sick twist in her stomach.

"Sally," came a slick, non-regional accent, and then up to their happy group strolled Lance Johnson. "I lose track of you for a few minutes, and when I find you again you're consorting with the enemy."

"Who's the enemy?" Megamind interjected with undisguised insult, and Lance turned, staring right at him for a few tense moments before breaking into cheesy laugher.

"Just a little professional banter," he chortled – not that anyone else there thought it was particularly funny.

"They're certainly not my enemies," Sal contributed frostily. "Roxanne and I go way back."

"Oh really? I didn't know that," said Lance just a little too condescendingly, and then his attention turned towards Megamind. "So, we meet at last," he announced forebodingly.

"You make it seem as if we were arch enemies," remarked Megamind calmly, shooting Roxanne a sideways glance and then raising his eyebrows for a second. If he were going to have an arch enemy, he'd do a lot better than Lance Johnson.

"Of course not, of course not," the conventionally handsome man chuckled, "but you can forgive a journalist for doing his job, I'm sure. We're the mouthpieces of the people, aren't we, Roxanne?" he said jovially, as if the two of them had a long shared history. She just gave him a hard, cold stare. "Well anyway, I just report what the people think. Can't blame me for what the people think, can you?" he carried on confidently.

"I wouldn't dream of it," said Megamind with biting sarcasm. "If you'll excuse me," he added, moving as if to walk away.

"Easy there," Lance slurred, reaching out an arm to stop him like a lollipop lady commanding children. "We're all professionals here, aren't we? I'm sure we can all manage to be nice to one another for the sake of the other guests."

"Believe me," Megamind replied with a tone like a tank of liquid nitrogen, "I am being nice."

"You might want to work on your tone a little," Lance commented acidly. "With manners like that, no wonder the people of Metro City think you're still a villain." Megamind had been about to go, but now he was rooted to the spot, his face a mess of anger and hurt. He went to open his mouth, to respond, but she beat him to it.

"What did you just call him?" Roxanne said quietly, cutting Megamind off before he could even make a noise.

"I... I said he was," Johnson blurted, far less articulate when not reading off an auto-cue. "I was just suggesting he... he could work on his social skills because he-"

"Not that," she interrupted viciously. "You called him a villain, didn't you?"

"Well," Johnson started uncomfortably.

"I want you to remember that's what you said," she warned him. "I want you to remember exactly what you called him when this happens," Roxanne said with a calm but overpowering fury, like a tidal wave washing over land. "Megamind," she instructed, and held out her hand in front of him, palm turned up. He was confused for a moment, and then she made 'give it here' twitches with her fingers, and he looked up at her in disbelief. She nodded, and then from the anger and hurt in his face, a grin rose up and overrode everything else.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the dehydration gun, checking it was on the right setting, and then settled it in the centre of her palm.

"Whoah," Johnson rushed the moment he realised what it was, and started to back away from them. It was strike three. "Easy there, Roxy," he stuttered.

"It's Roxanne," she hissed, "and you, Lance Johnson, are one of the most insufferable, the rudest, the nastiest people on air!" Considering the rest of the journalists at the party, that was saying something. "You dare to stand here and condescend to Megamind, to lecture him about being nice? I'd be surprised if you've done a nice thing for someone other than yourself in your entire life!" she stormed, her voice at least a level above the acceptable party volume. "You try to call him a villain? He's done more for this city than everyone in this room put together! All you do is regurgitate trash and present it in a professional enough format that people can convince themselves there's an ounce of credibility to the bullshit that comes out of your mouth. And you know what? There isn't. There isn't even an ounce of credibility in a single fucking word you say, and you've somehow managed to claw your way up to a respectable position in spite of being a hack journalist with no talent or personality." Lance looked like she'd hit him in the head with a frying pan; Megamind like he was going to rupture something in his face if his smile grew any wider.

"That is why you're never top of the ratings, Lance, because you are a bad journalist." More and more guests were stopping their own conversations to listen in and watch. "And then you stand here talking down to Megamind like you're better than him. Not only is he smarter than you can possibly fathom, he is a nicer, funnier and more charming than you will ever be!" Megamind started blushing again, but she was in no mood to stop.

"He is a damn hero and you DARED to try and take that away from him. I'm saying no, it stops here. If you ever say something like that about Megamind again, or try to push any more of your naysaying bullshit, I will fucking end you, Lance Johnson, and that is a promise." They were almost at the far end of the room, overlooking a beautiful panoramic of the city at night – not a bad backdrop for the scene, all things considered.

"And you know what?" she added furiously. "Your hair looks stupid."

Then she pulled the trigger on the dehydration gun, and before he could so much as scream Lance Johnson was reduced to a small fluorescent cube. Roxanne walked over in the deadly silence, bent down to pick the block off the floor, and then hurled it with all of her strength out of the open balcony door and over the railings; luckily for Lance, it wasn't raining that night, as he plummeted ten storeys down towards the ground in a compressed molecular form. With luck the weather wouldn't break for at least a week. It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, all eyes on Roxanne – at least until Megamind strolled up with a face like the cat who got the cream and then the cream of several other cats as well.

"How did that feel?" he questioned with a low, satisfied purr.

"That... felt good," she answered breathily, still clutching the dehydration gun in her hands, shaking slightly.

"I told you so," he replied. "Bad is good, sometimes." He paused and turned round; looking at the open doors Lance met his comeuppance through, the startled faces, and then back at Roxanne, black all the way down to the floor and having technically thrown a live man off the top floor of a high-rise building. "You know," he speculated, "that has to be the most attractive thing I have ever seen you do."

However, his suavity didn't last long, because with a clatter the gun dropped to the floor and she grabbed him firmly by the face, fingers hooking around his ears and practically smashed her mouth to his, kissing him completely senseless in front of all Metro City's finest. Any dash of meekness or chastity gone; she pulled against him for harder contact, went from closed mouth to open without a hint of care for where they were or who was watching; after flailing his arms around in shock for a moment, he adjusted to the

development and was just about ready to kiss back when she ended it and moved away so suddenly she was almost pushing him off, leaving him slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

"I," she began with an assured, authoritative tone; the voice of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. "I am going to go find an ice cream sundae." And with that she made a beeline for the lift, heels clicking against the floor and echoing around the room for a long, drawn-out silence.

Megamind picked up his gun without a word, then examined the stunned faces for a moment – before he went after her, of course.

"I did that," he announced like a proud creator, tucking the gun back into his jacket. "You're welcome."

* * *

And _that_, ladles and gents, is how you do it. This entire story has been building up to that scene, and hoo-boy did I enjoy it.

As said before, this is the end of the main plot and this section of the story. Just the epilogue to go.


	7. Completion

Epilogue at laaast. I had some trouble with the start I think which put me off posting this, but I since worked it out. Plus the Muse decided not to play with me anymore :( I do have another MM fic on the burner though, probably a one or two-shot that is going to fulfill my cravings for domesticity and future-fics.

* * *

_Greyscale_

Epilogue

* * *

It was a beautiful day in Metro City, too beautiful, in fact, to lurk in the dam of the lair. So Megamind, Minion and Roxanne were on their way to the park for a much-anticipated picnic. When they arrived, however, not everything was entirely to plan.

"Oh," remarked Megamind as they turned to face the open green expanses of the park – or at least, expanses which had once been open, but were now covered in picnic blankets, deck chairs and sprawling families. They were clearly not the only people the weather had coaxed outdoors, and as the three of them stood there bug-eyed, a frisbee flew over their heads, followed by an energetic child wailing like a siren.

"I should've known better," Roxanne said. "The park always fills up when the weather is nice."

"Well, what do we do now?" Minion questioned blithely.

"Aha, there's some space over there!" Megamind piped up, pointing over at an ornamental garden, which was fenced round with a high gate, but did have a nice spacious patch of lawn and even offered shelter from the wind.

"But that's," Roxanne started to say, and then fell quiet with consideration. "Good idea," she announced a moment later. Minion helped her and then Megamind over the shoulder-height fence then followed with their bags; away from the crowds they had plenty of space and the added perk of no thoroughfare. They set up and had a very enjoyable picnic; after polishing off the last of their food, Megamind lolled back against Minion's legs, folding his hands across his stomach contently.

"Good job, Minion," he commended, stretching and then closing his eyes. Roxanne sat up, legs curled underneath her, while Megamind chattered aimlessly about whatever came into his mind, slowly getting more and more sluggish, until he eventually stopped altogether.

"He's asleep, isn't he?" said Minion quietly, unable to see his boss napping against his legs, but guessing at one of the few possible reasons for his silence, and Roxanne nodded. "I thought so. It's the sun."

"The sun?" she echoed.

"Well, the lair is always dark and cold, and when we were younger, in prison, that was mostly inside as well," Minion explained tactfully, reminding Roxanne of the darker, lonelier side to their history. Warmth and light made most people sleepy, but Megamind was a lot less accustomed to it. She and Minion were both happy to let him sleep – it was far more peaceful that way – but while they were keeping quiet, a butterfly, probably mistaking him for a flower, landed on the end of his nose and promptly woke him up. He yelped and bolted upright, the butterfly flittering off guilelessly.

"What's going on?" he protested when Roxanne started laughing, and even Minion giggled in his tank.

"Nothing, nothing," she sniggered, and he stretched instinctively.

"How long did I sleep?" he murmured through a yawn.

"Not too long," she answered.

"I counted sixteen minutes and thirty-four seconds, sir," Minion remarked, pulling himself upright and then standing. "I'm going to go for a quick stroll," he announced, enviously eyeing a group of youths playing frisbee.

After watching Minion vault over the fence, and run up to the children ready to play, Megamind sprawled onto his back again and started talking about moisture and cloud formation; Roxanne soon lay down alongside him, and noticing, he tentatively offered his shoulder to rest on. She took him up on it gladly, shuffling closer and settling her head in the slight groove where arm ran into torso. He brought his free hand up to rest unobtrusively on her head, just spanning her crown as he fed his fingerstips lightly through her hair. He didn't stop talking about clouds, though.

"I may be a news reporter," she remarked caustically, "but I have to inform you that I've no interest in becoming a weather girl."

"Mhm," he murmured, and she could feel the vibrations through his chest; he then started describing what the clouds looked like instead, going through a drill, a shuriken, a whaling harpoon and an old man riding on a crocodile's head before Roxanne realised that she was going to have to take more drastic measures if she wanted quiet. She shifted positions, shuffling until her head rested on their blanket almost level with his.

"Hey," she coaxed, and he turned to look at her quizzically. She craned forwards to kiss him, and when she finally pulled back his eyes were opened wide, mouth wired shut in surprise. "That shut you up," she remarked, letting out a pleased sigh and settling down again.

"You could have asked," he murmured on a sort of pragmatic auto-pilot.

"That's much less effective," she replied, having done enough research into the area to be pretty confident in her findings.

"Oh," was his stunted response. They lay in silence for a while, more communication between them in slight touches than would be carried by conversation, and then a shrill screaming siren broke the calm. They both sat up, still close together, and watched a police car hare along the road bordering the park. Then another one went past, then three more.

"Maybe they're all late for something," Roxanne suggested hopefully, and then Minion came racing up to the fence.

"Sir! Sir! We have a level three situation!" he barked urgently.

"Are you sure?" Megamind questioned a little reluctantly; he was by his own admission off-duty, but top level emergencies were exceptions and both he and Roxanne knew it.

"Very a hundred percent sure, sir," Minion insisted. "They're pursuing a getaway vehicle, the suspects are reported to be armed, dangerous and extremely rude."

"Why couldn't they pick a day when the weather sucks to commit crimes," Roxanne bemoaned. "You better go," she added, turning back to Megamind.

"Really, when you think about it a 'getaway' is an indefinite period of time," he pointed out in a calm, unhurried tone; almost philosophical. "They're 'getting away' until they are got. I mean, it could be an hour or two days, but as long as I-"

"_Now_," she interrupted. "You're a hero, go act like one." Megamind pouted, and she ducked forwards to give him a peck, which quickly swapped it for a smile. "Go," she repeated, "I'll be here when you get back." This time he pulled her in for a kiss, a little longer and harder, then they parted and he stood up. As Minion boosted him over the fence and the two of them ran out of sight, Roxanne laid back again with a long sigh. Such were the hazards of dating a hero.

She was considering a nap herself, settling back with her coat for a pillow – though it was admittedly inferior to her previous one – and had decided that the cloud really _did_ look like an old man riding on a crocodile's head, when some of the background noise started to become foreground noise.

"I said, ma'am," said a shrill, whining voice, and Roxanned rubbed her eyes, then picked her head up to catch sight of a middle-aged woman with her hands on her hips, glaring at her. She sat up fully and the woman huffed.

"Hello?" Roxanne offered bemusedly.

"Are you aware that you are picnicking in an area that is off-limits?" the groundskeeper asked cattily. Roxanne looked around and remembered.

"Oh, yes, I did," she answered. "Sorry." She didn't, however, move or start to pack up. The woman tapped a foot impatiently on the floor.

"Off-limits means you need to leave," she said sharply.

"Well the thing is, I'm kinda waiting for someone," Roxanne explained. It wasn't as if she were ripping up huge chunks of the turf with a shovel or spreading litter everywhere. She was just laying on a blanket not being a nuisance to anybody.

"And?" the groundskeeper prompted.

"Well I'm waiting here," she elaborated, "so my friends wouldn't know where to find me if I went somewhere else."

"I don't recall that being my problem," retorted the groundskeeper. "You are forbidden from being on that grass, it is a fenced area and off-limits to the public."

"If you think about it, I'm not technically _on_ the grass," she remarked, looking at the blanket with quiet consideration.

"Rules are rules," stated the groundskeeper, slowly losing her temper. "Now get up and get out of there." Roxanne considered what Megamind would do in this situation, and then considered what he would do if she wouldn't let him use the dehydration gun on the groundskeeper.

"No," she said firmly, and lay back down; it was a nice day, she was feeling lazy, and was not going to move until Megamind and Minion came back.

"What was that?" the groundskeeper's voice came, as Roxanne started up at the clouds and decided that the crocodile now looked like more of a hippo.

"I said no," she shouted over to her.

"You are trespassing by being inside this fence, Ma'am," the lady warned. "Pack up your things and just-"

"Trespassing in a _public park?_" Roxanne shot scathingly, sitting bolt upright again and staring the woman out. "I've had enough trouble this afternoon, couldn't you go and pull weeds somewhere?" The woman's eyes bulged out and she started to go red in the face.

"This ornamental garden is a gift to the city from a wealthy benefactor, and is classified as the park-keeper's private property!" she squawked furiously. "Vacate this area at once!"

"Or what?" Roxanne retorted. "What are you going to do, climb over and throw me out yourself?"

"If you do not leave at once, I will have to contact the authorities to have you removed," threatened the groundskeeper, and Roxanne laughed boldly.

"You'll set the _park police_ on me?" she scorned, and flopped back down onto her back. "That sounds terrifying."

"Aren't you Roxanne Ritchi?" the woman accused.

"I don't think who I am is relevant," she answered.

"You should be ashamed," squawked the groundskeeper.

"For _what?_" she queried. "Enjoying the weather?"

"This area is out of bounds!"

"It's grass," she pointed out. "What am I going to do, flatten it?"

"If you do not leave this area immediately, I will have to resort to-"

"Oh look," Roxanne interrupted. "You can carry on yelling, or you can just accept that I'm not going anywhere no matter what you say, and go back to whatever you have to do aside from ruining people's days." The woman scowled at her, and Roxanne grinned with victory –after all, what were they going to do, arrest her?

* * *

Megamind and Minion hurried through their hero business as quickly as possible, eager to get back to Roxanne and their afternoon, but they ended up a long way from the park by the time they finally caught up with the whole business took a couple of hours at least.

After making sure the thugs would think twice before committing crimes when the weather was nice again, they raced back, arriving panting at the fence in the park; however, there was no trace of Roxanne, or even evidence there had been anyone there at all. Hands to the bars of the fence, Megamind's face twisted with disappointment that he was trying very hard to hold back, and felt Minion's large paw rest consolingly on her shoulder.

"Maybe she just moved?" he suggested brightly, but they'd both already scanned the masses of people, and Roxanne wasn't among them.

"No, it was... I shouldn't have expected her to wait," he said quietly.

"Why don't you call her?" Minion suggested brightly, and Megamind pulled out his phone enthusiastically, but then stopped before he opened it.

"Maybe not," he said unsurely. "If she -_hey_!" he yelped as Minion plucked it out of his hands and held it up high. "Stop that! Give it back!" Minion opened up the mobile and then broke into a toothy grin, brandishing the thing in his face.

"See! You have a missed call!" he boasted, at which point Megamind managed to get a foothold and scrambled up Minion's body-suit to rip the phone back off him.

_"It's mine,_" he yelped, tumbling back down and mashing buttons frantically. "There's a message!" he called triumphantly, and then put it to his ear, only to have Minion ram his tank right up against his face to listen too.

"You have one new message, received today, at fifteen, forty-five," the phone began. "Uh... hi," came Roxanne's voice, and the great sigh from both of them could have stirred leaves. "It's Roxanne, I, uh, have to use this payphone and I know you're probably busy right now but these people are not being very helpful and I didn't want you to think I... okay, okay," she shot suddenly to someone in the background. "Sorry. I don't think they're going to give me another call, so this is the best I've got. When you get this message, can you please... oh jeesh, this is ridiculous," she muttered to herself. "Look, I don't know how to say this but... I've been... I've been _arrested_. I, uh... think I need you to come and bail me out. I figured you'd probably know better than- hey! I'm still, this is ridicu-" the message cut out, and Megamind and Minion straightened up, giving each other blank looks of complete and absolute surprise.

"You heard that too, right?" Megamind asked as if he couldn't quite trust his own senses, and Minion nodded. There was a long, drawn-out moment, and then from the vacancy of Megamind's expression rose a smile, like bubbles to the surface of a pool. "Well, we better head back to the police station," he announced with unashamed delight.

Roxanne sat in a real, locked cell with her legs crossed and a face like thunder. After being cut off during her phone call she hadn't said a word to anyone, just sat and waited, hoping that Megamind would pick up her message and come to set things straight. When she heard his voice from the hallway leading onto her holding cell, her heart leapt up into her throat. He strolled into her section looking far from pleased, and she wanted to ask where he'd got the cape from.

"Megamind!" she called, leaping up and pasting herself to the front of the cell, but he didn't spare much more than a look for her, turning straight to the officer sat behind a desk nearby.

"Wake up!" he barked at the drousy man, who rocked back in his chair and almost fell straight off it. "What's the meaning of this?"

"Oh, Mr... I mean, Megamind, didn't you just leave here?" he babbled.

"So I thought, yet here I am again," he replied austerely. "I'm here for Roxanne Ritchi. Discharge her immediately."

"I'm sorry, but Miss Ritchi has been detained for trespassing onto private property and disturbing the peace," he recited, "she is going to have to face charges being pressed by the park maintenance team, but we've agreed to set her bail at-"

"OH! What's that?" Megamind cried suddenly, pointing behind the officer's head, and as he turned around instinctively Megamind whipped out his dehydration gun, span the barrel and then shot a strange yellowish spotlight over the man's desk.

"There's nothing there," he said dourly, not seeming to notice any change, and looking back up at Megamind suspiciously. "Miss Ritchi broke the law," he stated firmly.

"Oh_ come on!_" she yelled across from her cell. "I was laying on a picnic blanket!"

"Roxanne, please, I will handle this," Megamind said with a controlled, authoritative tone, but as he turned to her she saw him wink. "Could you pleased show me the charges being filed against her?" he inquired politely; never a good sign for those involved.

"Of course, they're just..." the policeman started, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk only for his expression to become slowly more confused. "That's odd, I could have sworn they were... maybe they're with her file," he muttered to himself, and pulled open a desk draw. Several minutes frantic search seemed to turn up no results.

"You can't even find her file?" Megamind suggested critically.

"It was right here," the officer insisted. "It was with the arrest forms and the witness statements... they were all just-"

"So you have no file on Miss Ritchi, nor a record of her arrest, or evidence of her 'crime' in the first place," he said unappraisingly, making air-quote signs with his fingers.

"I'll find them," the officer rushed, pulling out desk draws. "They were all just..."

"If you can't prove that she's meant to be here at all, I do not see how you have any right to detain her further," Megamind pointed out. "If I were you, officer, I would let Roxanne out right now and pretend this ugly clerical error never happened. _I_ won't report your mistake," he offered with a sugared threat in his tone.

The police officer looked at Megamind, and then across at Roxanne. For a minute or so he thought it over, considering the pros and cons, and then without a word got up and pulled a ring of keys from his belt.

"This _never_ happened," he told her as he let Roxanne out of her cell. "You were never here, okay?"

"Believe me, this is an experience I want to forget as quickly as possible," she said sourly, and walked out behind Megamind. Then, the moment they were past the police station doors he stopped, turning a full one-eighty to face her and threw his arms around her in a crushing hug.

"I am so _proud_ of you!" he cheered like an approving parent, swinging her around off her feet for two full revolutions.

"Wh- what?" she countered, too confused to do much as he dragged her along to the car where Minion was waiting.

"Hi!" Minion chirped brightly. "How did the de-regulation gun work, sir?"

"A treat, as always," Megamind answered, climbing into the passenger seat while Roxanne was relegated to the back.

"De-_regulate?_" she echoed. "Is _that_ what it did?"

"Oh yes, far more subtle than dehydration or destruction," he replied. "Works a treat on bureaucracy."

"How was she, sir?" Minion inquired eagerly as they pulled away.

"I haven't found out yet! Roxanne, tell us about the arrest," he demanded excitedly. "How did it happen? Did you resist?"

"Well I... I had an argument with a park groundskeeper," she answered awkwardly. "It sort of spiralled from there."

"I'm sure you were magnificent," Megamind proclaimed devotedly. "You know, it really was about time."

"Time for what?"

"Time you really went bad," he replied wickedly. "Oh, this _has_ brightened up my day," he said aside, rubbing his hands together. "I wish I'd been there to see it."

"This might sound like a stupid thing to say, but... why are you treating this like it's a good thing?" she remarked dryly. "I got _arrested_."

"Yes, I know, isn't it wonderful?" Megamind said jovially. "Take down the date, Minion."

"Already noted, sir," he answered. "Next year I'll bake a cake."

"Okay, slow down," Roxanne interjected. "I know there's good bad and bad bad and bad good and all, but being arrested definitely counts as _bad_ bad."

"Ohhh they can't prove that," Megamind replied confidently. "If you get away with it then it's always the good kind of bad. You said yourself it was ridiculous."

"Well... it was," she agreed, "but, why are you so excited? I don't-"

"Forgive us a little indulgence," Megamind told her. "It used to be a lot of fun; arrests, escapes, trials. I can't afford such liberties any more," he added with what almost seemed like a touch of regret.

"So _I_ have to take them instead?" she said scathingly; Megamind chuckled, and turned around in his seat to face her.

"It's only a bit of fun," he assuaged. "It's just good to see you really going up against the law. Forgive an old supervillain his nostalgia." She pointedly rolled her eyes, but kept a thin smile.

"Thank you anyway, for getting me out," she offered.

"All in a day's work," he boasted. "Saving damsels in distress is the provision of a hero, after all."

"Give or take the odd jailbreak," she replied sardonically.

"That's the best part," he bantered, waggling his eyesbrows at her. "Not to mention, I do _love_ you when you're bad," he added, as if it were an inconsequential side-note, and then turned back to the front without noticing Roxanne's mildly shocked expression.

"What was that?" she questioned shyly, thinking that he perhaps just meant it specifically when she was being bad, not in general. "You love me?"

"Of course I do," he replied with an almost business-like air.

"... Really?" she asked, and he turned back to look at her again with a bemused air of disbelief.

"Yes really," he retorted. "Roxanne, why in Metrocity would you think I don't love you?"

"I... uh," she stuttered, feeling like her face was about to start heating up. "Well, it's not like you've _said_ it before," she blurted, then felt a bit ridiculous; Megamind's scathing look certainly didn't help either.

"I need to _say_ it?" he queried, glancing at Minion as if looking for help, but the driver had nothing to offer on the subject either.

"Well, people generally do," she countered, "I mean, no one wants to assume it and be wrong."

"You wouldn't be wrong," he replied in his casual, understated way. "I do love you."

"Oh," she answered uneloquently, and had nothing more to add for a long, awkward moment.

"You seem very surprised," he remarked, as if he thought her intelligent enough to work it out herself. "Is it _news_ to you?"

"Well I... thank you," she managed to string words together eventually. "You mean a lot to me too."

"Really?" he said with a wide grin, seeming so thrilled with the admission that she couldn't help laughing a little, and before any more could come of the exchange she leaned forward, putting a hand to his jaw to keep them steady in the moving car, and kissed him. However, before much more could come of _that_, Minion suddenly rounded a corner through a red light and Roxanne lurched across the backseat, tumbling away from Megamind with a surprised yelp.

"Are you all right?" he inquired as she struggled back up, trying to reach over to help her but really being more of a disturbance than an aid.

"Sorry," Minion cheeped.

"This is why we have a highway code!" she scolded. "If you didn't-"

"Oh Roxanne," Megamind interrupted brashly. "Don't start on this again. We know you're not half as good as you give off." If only because he'd made it a personal mission to bring out her inner criminal.

"Whose fault is _that_?" she retorted, and Megamind just chuckled.

"I prefer to think of it as handiwork," he corrected. "You always had the potential for badness. We just helped to catalyse it." She tumbled in the backseat again as the car lurched around another corner, and in response to his laughing at her she flipped a finger up at him. Megamind's grin only grew broader and he turned to the driver. "Minion," he started quietly. "Code, _project: turning Roxanne Ritchi_ bad is complete."

* * *

Dohohohoh this kind of didn't _want _to end but I had to at some point. I think my favourite thing about MM is the ability to be very funny but also very sincere and sweet. He has wit and flair, but is very sensitive and devoted when he wants to be. And he never seems to think he's doing it, he just says exactly what he feels without understanding that it's romantic and adorable.

Anyway shushhubbub I'll stop babbling. Thanks for coming along for the ride! Leave a review or something, Megamind would :P


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